


Bad Boy With A Tainted Heart

by fourdrunksluts



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crimes & Criminals, Criminal Masterminds, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Robin Hood References, Theft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:21:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27494149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fourdrunksluts/pseuds/fourdrunksluts
Summary: Luke, with his glasses perched on the bridge of his nose and his hair tied in a tight bun, was sweet, shy, and stayed away from the spotlight. Everyone could see his charisma, but he held it in such a reserved manner that it was always overshadowed by someone who wasn't as deserving of attention.Until Michael came along.-Michael and Luke are criminal master minds, acting as London's personal Robin Hoods. Michael sleeps with wealthy men, and Luke uses his knowledge of technology to steal from their accounts to donate to charity. Their system is nearly perfect...Nearly
Relationships: Michael Clifford/Luke Hemmings
Comments: 2
Kudos: 57





	Bad Boy With A Tainted Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from _Criminal_ by Britney Spears

There’s sweat running down his back, his hair - even in its tight bun - is fraying and frizzing in the humidity, and his thighs are burning from the briskness of his movements, but Luke can’t stop.

“Target is moving,” he alerts to Michael, never ceasing his steps. He doesn’t wait for a response as he picks up his pace. If, for even a moment, their target escapes view, if they don't get him in their grasp tonight, their chance could be lost forever, and the entire mission is wasted.

Alex Gaskarth, 32 year old partner at Gaskarth-Dawson Law Firm in central London, is the man of the hour at the LUX Gala. No, he isn’t getting any awards, nor is he even of special interest for the general attendance, but to Michael and Luke he’s the only reason for attending. They’re both dressed to the nines, trimmed and tamed to fit in with the black-tie crowd, but it’ll all be a loss if they can’t get any face time with Alex.

“I lost him - ”

“Bathrooms at 9 o'clock,” Luke cuts his partner off through their mics. He can’t let Michael rest for even a moment, not when they’re just as close to catching him as they are to losing him. “I’ll block him from the north side.”

They go in opposite directions it seems, closing in on him. Just as their target is about to take a left into a lounge that neither of the two have access to, they catch up to him, and - as gently as he can - Luke nudges against the target’s shoulder, making his drink fly out of his hand, spilling onto Michael and shattering glass onto the floor.

Michael gasps as the cold liquid drenches his shirt. Luke watches, appearing horrified, knowing that it’s going to stain and that it’s all his fault.

“I am so sorry,” Luke tries to apologize. “I didn’t - ”

Alex waves his arms, cutting Luke off. “I’m fine, I’m alright.” He turns to address Michael. “What about you?”

Michael looks up from the damp mess of his shirt, eyes pinched as though he’s about to yell, but when his eyes make contact with Alex’s, they relax, softening enough to make Luke scoff audibly. Michael ignores him and smiles at their target. “I think you dropped something.”

Alex laughs, “I suppose I did. Are you alright?”

“My chest is a bit cold,” Michael admits, “but I’d say a drink could warm me right up.”

“I think I can manage that.”

Michael escorts him away to the bar, leaving Luke behind, sweaty, out of breath, and pretty fucking annoyed. He finds his own way back to the main bar, keeping a close eye on where Alex’s hand is cradling Michael's against the countertop.

Luke holds in what he really wants to say and instead, speaks into the mic, “That was a close call.” From the bar, he can see Michael raise his eyebrows in agreement.

Everything went according to plan, but it doesn’t stop the small rage boiling inside Luke at the sly way Michael tilts his neck as if inviting Alex to make a move. It’s their job, but it hurts more and more with each target.

➴➴➴

Luke met Michael in their first year in University. They didn’t have any classes together, but they were assigned to the same dorm, and from the first time Luke saw Michael he was hooked. There was something about the man that intrigued Luke to the point of drawing him in every time he so much as blinked.

It was never a competition between the two, they never fought about… well, about anything really. Luke, with his glasses perched on the bridge of his nose and his hair tied in a tight bun, was sweet, shy, and stayed away from the spotlight. Everyone could see his charisma, but he held it in such a reserved manner that it was always overshadowed by someone who wasn’t as deserving of attention.

Until Michael came along.

There wasn’t a doubt in Luke’s mind that Michael deserved attention and more, just for existing. He walked around in cozy sweaters and beanies, his hair fluffy and soft as though he’d just woken up at any hour of the day. He looked as though he should blend into the crowd, but he was witty and charming, and the drama major he was going for all but pushed him straight into the eye of the general public.

He was born to be a star and, for Luke, he shined as bright as one.

When their first year came to an end, neither boy wanted to go home. They balanced each other out in such a way that they yearned for the other’s company the moment there was a wall between them. They couldn’t very well retreat to their hometowns for a few months and expect everything to be alright.

(They very well could, but Michael always made everything sound drastic in a way Luke couldn’t say no to.)

They rented a flat together just off campus, a two bedroom so they could at least have their own space, and immediately fell into a rhythm together. They ebbed and flowed the entire summer, moving as one and making memories neither would forget.

But then classes came around again, revising took over most their time, and before they knew it, rent was due, and they didn’t have that month’s cheque.

There were a few panic-ridden nights that had Michael pacing a hole in the kitchen floor as Luke searched quick ways to get cash before Michael came up with the most brilliantly idiotic idea Luke had ever heard.

At the time, Michael had been dating a complete and utter prick, as Luke described him, but he was  _ loaded _ , and he’d occasionally give Michael his card to pay the tab at the pub or grab snacks at the theatre. Michael was used to memorizing scripts and stage directions, and managed to memorize his card number, security number, and expiration date. At the time, it was just something to do as he waited in line, but staring at the sign-in page of their living complex made him think maybe there was something more behind it.

It took two days to convince Luke that they should at least try it, and if Michael's boyfriend ever found out about it, they could pay him back. The argument pushing him over the edge being that their rent was due by midnight, and if they didn’t pay, they’d be out on the streets.

So Luke agreed and they did it.

And when they weren’t caught, they did it again.

And again.

And just when they were about to pay their rent again, Michael was dumped. At first, Luke was worried it was because he knew what they were doing, but Michael was quick to assure him it was because his family didn’t approve of Michael's familial wealth - or lack thereof.

Feeling spiteful, Michael told Luke to take out a years worth of rent, and Luke - always quick to do as Michael said - followed through. They both immediately felt guilty watching the five-digit number leave his bank account, so Luke dropped half of it for charity before he sent the other half to their bank account.

Six months went by and Luke and Michael were living the good life, enjoying their flat and each other’s company, buying the fanciest foods and wine, cuddling well into the night like drunk, rich socialites. But soon enough they had to pay rent again. They talked about the idea of getting jobs to cover it for all of five minutes before Michael mentioned a trust fund kid in his Advanced Concepts of Movement class who’d been trying to ask him out.

It was difficult for Michael to pretend to be interested, and Luke hated snaking the money out of this poor kid’s account, but their rent was covered for the next few months, and all it took was a couple weeks of simple work.

After that, it got easy. 

➴➴➴

Luke’s staked out in a coffee shop two buildings down from where Michael's having dinner with Alex Gaskarth. He has a half-finished coffee resting next to his laptop, which is showing video being recorded through the camera on the edge of Michael's glasses, and the piece in his ear is transmitting from the microphone on the lapel of Michael's suit jacket. Luke has tabs open on Alex’s social media accounts and his one interview from the English Bar, and he’s doing his best to guide the conversation to places that he can control Michael's responses and keep Alex on the hook.

“I’m sorry,” Michael interrupts halfway through Alex’s work story. Luke wasn’t paying much attention, figuring as long as it’s work, it’s safe. It’s when things start to tangent off in other directions that Luke’s on standby for. “What is it you do again? You’re a lawyer, right?”

Alex smiles, and the camera angles down to where Alex’s hand is reaching down to grip Michael's. “Much more than a lawyer, babe. I have my own firm.”

“Right, right. You’re the big man on campus, then?” Michael looks back up and Luke can just imagine the smirk on his face based on the tone in his voice.

“Absolutely. I call the shots.”

Michael laughs, a fake, airy thing. “I like that in a man.”

Alex smirks, an air of smugness around him, and Luke rolls his eyes. He knows exactly what Alex’s thinking, that Michael's some twink for keeps, primed and primped to warm his bed and do as he says. And sure, Michael may act that way when he’s with these men, but he’s only there to steal their fortune. They can think he’s a toy all they want, but Luke knows he won’t be there for long.

That’s the only thing keeping him in the game - the knowledge that Michael won’t go and run away with these filthy rich men.

“And what is it that you do?” Alex asks, pulling Luke’s attention back to the screen, and having him switch to the English Bar interview, looking for a hint of anything to make Michael more interesting in Alex’s eyes. “Other than walk around parties waiting to get drinks spilled on you.”

“That wasn’t my fault,” Michael insists, a giggle tumbling out. “You can’t act like I’m the odd one when you all but threw your Gin and Dubonnet for a chance to speak to me.”

“I didn’t do it on purpose! Someone ran into me, it was a mere accident.”

Luke continues skimming the article, but the first few questions are primarily regarding his law practice so he has to delve further, which is hard to do with Michael's teasing voice in his ear directed towards someone other than him.

“Or so you say. I didn’t see anyone but you in that hallway.”

“There was a man - ”

“Alex.” Michael cuts him off, voice soft and convincing. “You were only person I could see in that hallway.”

The camera falls a bit to show Michael's thumb rubbing Alex’s palm and Luke clenches his fist. He continues reading to distract himself and discovers Alex does a lot of charity work at the LGBT switchboard, prefers older music, and cites Echo Tree as his favorite piece of literature.

“So what is it that you do?”

“Tell him you write,” Luke prompts, loudly enough that Michael can hear him in his earpiece, but not too loud to attract the attention of coffee patrons.

Michael clears his throat, and the camera shifts to the left, showing that Michael's not looking directly at Alex. “I went to uni for drama, but wasn’t cut out for it, so now I just write a bit. Wouldn’t call myself a writer, exactly, but maybe one day.”

“Don’t be modest,” Alex says, and the camera focuses in on him. “I’m sure you’re better than you’re aware of.”

“I’ve never written anything of note, honest.” Luke has to hold in a laugh at Michael's answer because he really isn’t lying with this one.

“Then why do you do it?”

Michael laughs, but Luke knows it’s a placeholder for an answer that he’s asking Luke to provide him with. “You’re a fan of books.”

“It’s just something I started one day,” Michael doesn’t even hesitate to begin. “There’ve been a lot of stories that have changed my life, and I want to be like them.”

“Who’s your favorite author?” Alex asks. “Who inspires you most?”

“What’s with the twenty questions, baby?”

Luke does a quick search of Echo Tree to pull up the authors name and recites “Henry Dumas” to Michael.

“I guess I just want to know what makes you tick,” Alex shrugs. It has Luke’s nose crunching in.

“It’s Henry Dumas,” he insists, wanting to move past this flirting limbo they're trapped in.

Michael hums sweetly and the camera floats a bit higher, tilting to the side. He’s playing coy. “If I had to choose, I think I’d say the biggest influence I’ve had in writing is Henry Dumas.” Alex visibly reacts, and Michael laughs. “Have you heard of him?”

“I have, yeah,” Alex says, grabbing his drink, downing the rest of it in one shot.” Echo Tree is my favorite collection of work.”

“I guess we have more in common than I first thought.”

“I guess we do.” Alex tilts his glass forward and Michael taps his against it. Watching Alex's eyes shine, Luke can only assume that Michael's have gone soft.

He always was a great actor.

The night goes on, Luke keeping a close eye on the competition and making sure that Michael doesn’t say anything that could jeopardize their chance to gain access to Alex’s accounts. It's mostly small talk, meaningless topics that Michael can handle himself, but occasionally Luke has to pop in and direct things to go in a certain direction. 

Eventually, as they've finished their meals and the conversation has dwindled down to just flirty whispers, Alex lifts Michael's hand to his mouth and kisses the back of it. “What do you say we get out of here?”

Luke has to fight against groaning into the microphone. “Say no.” It's far too soon for Michael to be in Alex's flat. If he goes now, he'll only see Michael as a one night stand, which means they'd have to take the money tonight. But in doing that, they're making themselves obvious, not acting in the subtle way that they need to.

“I’m not so sure - ”

“We could pop open some red,” Alex cuts Michael off, a grin dancing on his face as a far away glazes in his eyes. “Sit on the roof, maybe, and listen to an old record.”

Luke wants to laugh, but holds it in. Michael hates old music. The last time Luke brought out his record machine, Michael disappeared into their neighbor's flat for a solid day.

Instead of outright laughing at Alex's offer, Luke clears his throat and says, “If you go now, it’ll be too suspicious when the money goes missing.”

The camera subtly tilts a few times, Michael nodding minutely in agreement. “You’ll have to do better than that to get me alone,” he teases his date. “I’m not an easy date, Alex Gaskarth.”

Alex chuckles and says something in return, but Luke misses it. His attention is too busy narrowing in on a familiar face in the background. An old friend of Luke's brother, someone Michael almost found himself falling in love with, someone Luke held such distaste for he drained half of the man's bank account, nearly costing Michael his life. If it wasn't for their secure backup plan they've spent years perfecting, Luke's certain Michael would be six feet under right now. 

“Don’t give yourself away,” Luke warns, “but hot friend Keith at 1 o'clock.”

Michael's head discreetly slides to the left, and Luke can hear his partner's quiet breath intake.

“Y-you know,” Michael says, voice far thicker than it was before. “I think that sounds lovely. What do you say we get out of here?”

Alex smirks and waves his hand in the air for the bill. There's a cockiness about him that Luke can feel even a few blocks over. He absolutely hates the man.

As soon as the bill is paid, Alex's hand is at Michael's lower back, guiding them to the entrance. Michael takes care to hide his face the entire time, not wanting one past lover to ruin the streak of perfect heists they've gone through with.

Soon enough, they're outside and Alex parts with a kiss to Michael's temple as he approaches the valet. Luke immediately falls into action. “Get out of there, Mikey,” he urges

“What?” The camera turns away from Alex so quickly that the picture on Luke's laptop blues and freezes before glitching back to normal. “I just told him I’d go home with him.”

“You can’t. Not yet.”

“I have to.”

“No you don’t!”

Michael's voice breaks as he says, “He’ll think I'm a tease,” sounding like the idea of it actually hurts.

“You don’t want to be with someone who doesn’t respect you, Mikey.”

He huffs in response, and Luke can tell that he's agitated. “We’re literally robbing him, Luke. He can disrespect me all he wants.”

“Michael, I’m telling you not to go home with him,” Luke bites, not leaving any room for an argument. He knows it'll lead to a fight, but getting Michael out of there safely is his first priority. “Tell him you have work in the morning or something, but get out of there. We can’t risk going too far too soon.”

“ _ Fine _ .”

The words stop there, silence growing between them as they wait for Alex to return from the valet booth. It's a few minutes before he actually does, hands empty but an excited skip in his step.

His hands are in his pocket and he's leaning forward on the balls of his feet. If Luke didn't know any better, he'd accuse Alex of being modest and almost charming, but he knows men like this, and he knows there's nothing there but greed.

Hell, he's quite a rich man himself, and he knows he's greedy. Only, it's not for money.

“They’re pulling the car around now,” Alex says, watching Michael fondly. His smile slips slightly and he asks, “Are you cold?”

“I’m alright.”

“You sure?” He doesn't seem convinced by Michael's nod. “Something seems wrong.”

Michael sighs, preparing what Luke's sure will be a believable yet completely bullshit excuse. “I just - I have a meeting tomorrow morning and I should probably head home.”

Any semblance of excitement or anticipation on Alex's face is wiped away. Luke can't find it in himself to feel guilty. “Oh - ”

“I feel really terrible about it, but…”

Alex waves off any excuse Michael would have come up with. “No, it’s alright, love. I understand. I just hope it’s nothing I’ve done.”

“Of course not,” Michael insists, walking forward. The camera drops to show him gently taking Alex's hands in his much smaller ones, thumbs rubbing circles around his knuckles. “I want to see you again soon, hopefully, if that’s alright with you.”

“Of course.” Luke can feel himself getting more and more upset looking at his computer screen. There's a softness in every step Alex takes, something careful and kind - an act, he's sure. Luke just doesn't want him sucking Michael into his life the way other past targets have. “For tonight, though, would you let me drive you home?”

Luke scoffs outwardly and a couple sitting near him turn at the noise. He winces, apologizes, and goes back to watching, excited to see how Michael declines. They never give away their location, and Alex is a fool for thinking he'd be special in any way shape or form.

He isn't the richest, or most attractive, or even tallest man they've stolen from. Alex is just another target and in a week, he won't even be a blip on their radar.

“I’m alright to walk,” Michael insists. “Might get a tea on the way.”

“Walk?” Alex's face contorts into something of horrified astonishment, a clear sign that he's never been anywhere close to the poverty line in his wealthy, privileged life.

“I’m just a few blocks over.” The camera blurs slightly. Luke assumes Michael tilted his head in the direction of the coffee shop in which he's currently hiding in. “Not far at all. My room has a great view of Hyde Park, even.”

Luke smirks at the lie.

“Yeah?”

“It does.” It doesn't. “Maybe I’ll even let you see it sometime soon.” He won't.

A charming grin takes over Alex’s face, and then he's leaning in to kiss Michael. Luke slams the computer screen down and rips his headphones out. He can't stand to watch or listen. The meaningless flirting is too much for him on a good day, watching something actually happen is a goddamn nightmare.

A few moments later, after Luke's been sitting alone with no contact to his partner or the target, Michael storms into the coffee shop. “You always do that, Lukey,” he yells, fists clenched at his side, chest heaving visibly. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Luke glances at the other people in the coffee shop. Nobody's outwardly reacting, but he can see the way their ears perk up. “It would’ve been suspicious.”

“We didn’t have to do anything tonight,” Michael bites back. “Maybe I just wanted to sleep with him, you ever think of that?”

Luke did think of that, actually, and it makes him ache. “Isn’t it too soon - ”

“Too soon for what?” There's a condescending bite to his tone, and his face is twisted in a way that makes Luke want to disappear completely. “Consensual sex between two adults? I don’t think that has a timeframe,  _ mate _ .”

“I - ”

Michael scoffs, cutting off the incomplete thought Luke was trying to form. “I’m going home,” he says, eyes slitted, burning a hole everywhere they look at Luke. “I’ll see you tomorrow - don’t bother talking to me until then.”

Michael storms out and Luke’s left to pack up his tech. The patrons of the coffee shop have moved past subtly glancing and are now glaring at him. He walks home, upset that he's made his best friend and partner upset, but an even larger part of him is ecstatic that Michael didn't sleep with Alex. He hasn't yet, and hopefully Luke can stop it in the future as well.

Sure they're doing something illegal - robbing men of part of their wealth for their own selfish gain. They're constantly at risk of being caught and locked away, and it's an issue. But Michael sleeping with these rich men?

That’s a much bigger problem.

➴➴➴

It shouldn’t be a problem, but it is. If only because Luke’s in love with Michael, has been since the very moment he laid eyes on the older boy.

… if that wasn't obvious already.

➴➴➴

The next morning, Luke finds himself in the kitchen, dirty dishes piling high as he cooks up a full English. There's nothing that'll express his regret to Michael than breakfast, hot and awaiting his presence.

Luke isn't sorry about what happened, doesn't regret that Michael and Alex didn't sleep together, but he does want to apologize for the way everything happened, for the fact that Michael stormed away, upset and frustrated.

Just as Luke's finishing up the bacon, Michael comes trotting into the room, eyes puffy, hair sleep rumbled, and positively soft in Luke's favorite sweater. He sleeps in it when he's mad at Luke, but Luke doesn’t find it much of a punishment at all.

“Morning, Lukey,” Michael croaks, rubbing at his eyes and taking a seat at the counter.

“Morning.”

Just as Luke's preparing his apology speech, gathering his confidence and taking in a breath, Michael speaks up. “I just, I wanted to apologize for last night. I may have possibly overreacted a bit.”

“Yeah?” Luke isn't sure what else to say, not when his apology was hijacked so humbly with ease.

“You were just doing your part,” Michael explains, his eyes narrowing in on the granite countertop. “Falling into bed too soon would’ve made the break up suspicious, and… just, you were right.” He takes a deep breath and raises his head, looking Luke in the eye. “Forgive me?”

Luke doesn't hesitate. “Obviously.”

He’s incredibly stupid for Michael - there's nothing the other man could do to keep Luke from loving him with his entire heart. Even if Luke was a target, he'd give Michael every penny he had.

There's a reason Michael's the one to sleep with these men. He's alluring and magnanimous, and there's no way anybody stands a chance against his soft smiles and big green eyes.

“Alex actually messaged me last night,” Michael informs him, taking Luke out of the sepia-tinted day dream he was having. “ And he messaged again this morning wishing me luck at my ‘meeting.’ And then a few minutes ago he even called me. Said he couldn’t get me out of his head. You were right about not going home with him, and I should’ve trusted you.”

Luke nods and bites his tongue against any harsh words he might be tempted to say. He doesn’t want to say much at all - doesn’t want to show his hurt.

“So what should we do next?” Michael asks. “What’s our next point of attack?”

“Let him take you out again, I think,” Luke suggests. His eyes float away from Michael and he works on building a plate of food. Michael's lucky enough to operate on the same wavelength in all aspects of his life, but Lukes a fool in love. If they're talking about work, he can’t be himself - he can't have fun. It's not in his skillset. “To a movie or dinner again. Just don’t seem too eager to have access to his home. He’s looking for something long term, and if you act like you are too, he’ll be more interested in getting you home.”

“And if he invites me over afterwards?”

Luke holds his frown back and robotically advises Michael to “Be hesitant, but let him talk you into it.”

“You’re so good at this, Lukey,” Michael sighs, smiling widely as Luke places a plate in front of him. “What would I do without you?”

He doesn't know that Luke's thinking the same thing about Michael.

➴➴➴

It takes two more dates before Alex finally asks Michael back to his place. At first, Michael was doubtful it would happen at all, but Luke assured him it was just Alex being cautious. After the last time he asked, with Michael shutting him down completely, he probably needed to get some confidence back.

And that ended up being the case. Alex explained his hesitancy after they shared ice cream together in Hyde Park at sundown, and tentatively invited Michael back home with him for a nightcap - something Michael accepted with shy eyes and modest grin, doing an excellent job at pretending to need persuading.

At first, Luke was upset and angry that things were happening so fast and that the two would be intimate before he could even try and convince Michael otherwise. But while Michael falling into bed with their target was something inevitable, at least if it was happening now they could sooner wash their hands of Alex and be MichaelandLuke again.

For now, Luke's stuck listening to the man he's in love with making out with their target. He wishes for nothing more than to be able to stop and never have to hear the wet, exaggerated sounds through his headset again. Only, he has to stay tuned so he knows when Michael's inserted the chip into Alex's laptop so he can begin to vacuum the funds from his account.

When they'd only just begun to steal from Michael's boyfriends back in uni, they went the simple, slow, and highly traceable route. They used credit card numbers to send money into their personal accounts as if making a simple purchase. It worked when they were kids and Michael could spend more time gathering blackmail on their targets, preemptively withdrawing the cash as “hush money.”

Or so they'd explain if ever caught.

Now, as adults dealing with much more dangerous people and even wealthier socialites, they have to be more cautious, more subtle, and a hell of a lot smarter with their transactions.

Luke developed a program about two years into their partnership that could successfully hack into their target's laptop and gain access to every program - password protected or not.

In no time at all, it seems, Luke can get into their target's bank account and transfer money to their offshore account, all while holding onto the information so they can also donate half of it to a charity that won't raise suspicion - all before Michael has even left their flat.

Another benefit of the program is that the access it grants them is perfect for snooping out blackmail in the very unlikely situation that they're caught.

It's their back up plan. One they've never had to use.

Just as Luke's ready to take his headphones out and call the night a bust, the noises stop and Michael's voice is saying, “Can you excuse me for just one moment?”

Luke pulls up the video screen, feeling safe to view the situation at hand now that he'll be able to see more than Alex's too-large nose and too-thin lips.

Alex nods, gesturing behind Michael, and then the camera is moving and Michael's leaving the room.

It doesn't take long for him to find his way into an office of some sort, approach the desk, and insert the computer chip into the laptop. His hand isn't even off the USB before Luke's loading up his program and working to gather information.

When Michael reenters the bedroom - after stopping in the bathroom to make his stepping out more believable - Luke's sent a modest hundred grand to their offshore account, and another to what he calls “limbo” awaiting to go to a charity that he and Michael will agree on at a later date.

Before the kissing can commence again, Luke's removing his headset, closing his laptop, and leaving the room. Michael has an emergency button that he can press if something goes haywire. It gives Luke the comfort of not having to watch Michael fuck someone while also knowing that he's not in any harm. It, by far, is the best piece of equipment they own if only so Luke can go next door and bug their neighbor as opposed to pining after his best friend and partner.

Luke shuts their door behind him only to immediately open Calum's door, walking in and heading towards the couch.

Calum, sitting at his dining room table, sorting through a stack of papers, watches everything happen. “Walk right in, why don’t you,” he bites, eyes slitted as Luke doesn't even hesitate in his steps. “Who needs a doorbell?”

“It’s not like you were doing anything,” Luke comments.

“I could’ve been.”

“You weren’t.”

Luke throws himself face down on Calum’s sofa in lieu of a response and Calum groans, standing up from the table. “Oh don’t do that.” Luke pushes his head in the crack of the sofa and Calum laughs. It feels a bit like he’s taunting Luke’s misfortune. “Luke, seriously,” he urges, moving Luke's thin legs over so he can sit on the cushion. “What’s wrong?”

Luke mumbles into the cushioning, but he knows Calum can't understand his muffled whines, so he pulls his head back and repeats, “Michael's out with a target.”

“Oh, Michael's on a date with someone?” Calum asks, voice rising at the end signifying that he knows he misinterpreted the words, but doesn't want to acknowledge what was really said. “I’m sorry.”

Calum's hand is gently placed at his back, resting there without movement, but it grounds him nonetheless. “They’re sleeping together.”

“You don’t know that - ”

“I saw,” Luke insists.

Calum is silent, his hand pressing a bit harder at Luke's tailbone. It's a moment before he says in a hushed tone, “I think it’s time we have a talk about boundaries.”

“I closed the laptop once they got to the bedroom,” he defends himself. “I only needed to listen up until the money - ”

“Yeah, up until you knew Michael was safe with his date,” Calum interrupts, again refusing to correctly hear Luke's words.

Luke laughs again. “One of these days, you’re going to have to acknowledge what we do.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

➴➴➴

Luke and Michael met Calum the very day they moved into their secluded living complex. On the 18th floor of a 20 story building, they were looking for a flat that wouldn't allow them to be found easily if things ever went south.

They'd just finished bring in their belongings and were ready to begin making their place a home when Calum knocked on their door and invited himself inside. He didn't leave until well past midnight, Luke and Michael not getting a say in the matter at all.

One moment they were partners in crime with nobody but each other, and the next they had a smart ass Kiwi friend invading their space to watch footie on their television and cuddle through any hard times. 

It's been six years and Luke couldn't imagine not having Calum across the hall, always ready for a drink and a hug.

The only downside is that Calum's by far one of the smartest men they know. He owns his own PR firm, representing athletes, musicians, and just about any other celebrity you could think of. He started the firm himself, grew it into the multimillion dollar company it is today, and still handles all the company's financial and legal issues.

It wouldn't be a problem for the two of them, but on top of being business savvy, he's also incredibly perceptive, meaning it only took him about 3 weeks to discover the criminal activity going on in the flat across from his. It's been years since then, though, and Calum still hasn't said a word to anyone. Other than the very first time he brought up his observation, he refuses to acknowledge that he knows. It's his own way of having plausible deniability, but at this point he's in too deep.

Hell, Calum's even landed them some targets in the past, and he's fixed a bug or two in Luke's program.

Pretending not to be aware of what goes on is a point they've long since passed.

➴➴➴

The next day finds Luke and Michael eating chinese takeaway in the living room, picking out which charities to donate to. Luke’s sitting cross legged on the floor, only giving the laptop in front of him half glances as he shovels his food into his mouth. Michael's behind the couch, pacing back and forth as he gives most of his attention to his phone while holding his takeaway container in his freehand, most of it going uneaten. All in all, there isn’t much focusing going on. They’ve got one-hundred thousand pounds sitting, ready to send off to wherever they so choose.

If only they could agree on one.

“What about Pride of Britain?” Luke tries through his mouthful of fried rice.

“We just did that, didn’t we?” Michael pauses his pacing to lean against the back of the couch. Luke tilts his head back to look up. “Shouldn’t we give someone else attention?”

“Believe in Magic?”

Upside-down Michael shakes his head, lips pursed. “I donate to them a lot, and I don’t want it to be traced back to me if Alex calls it in.”

Luke looks back at his food with a frown. They have this rhythm, this pattern of robbing from men, stealing their money, and donating to charity. It’s classic, effortless nearly, and it’s proven to work. Their record is perfect, and it’s fantastic, but Luke wonders if maybe they’re too reliant on the system.

If they’re too obvious.

He looks back up at Michael only to see he’s occupied with his phone again. It doesn’t stop him from asking, “Do you ever worry they’re going to catch on to what you’re doing?”

“What we’re doing,” Michael corrects. There’s a scowl on his face and Luke nibbles on his lip at the bite to it. 

“Do you ever worry - ”

“No,” he cuts Luke off. “We donate more to charity than we send to the offshore, and what kind of asshole is going to report his money was donated to a charity in need?”

“What if they know it’s you?” Luke wonders.

He knows he’s being irritating, suddenly bringing up these questions out of the blue. It’s just that he worries. One day they won’t be able to do this as easily. One day they’re going to get caught. It’s all a disaster waiting to happen, and Luke’s beginning to think it may not be worth it.

“We have a failsafe, Luke,” Michael sighs. The sharpness is gone from his tone, and now he just sounds bored with the conversation. “Besides, the moment the money disappears, I’m sitting on their dick. I have an alibi.”

Although Michael most likely thinks that to be funny, it hits too hard. Luke smiles flatly and goes back to his computer screen to keep his sour mood from showing. It feels like Michael says these things to purposefully hurt him. Luke knows he never would but sometimes… sometimes it burns.

“Look, let’s just send it to the LGBT Switchboard,” Michael offers suddenly. He walks around the couch and places his half eaten food on the table, falling down on a cushion. “He does work there, so it’s not very suspicious.” He reaches for his shoes under the table, and starts sliding them on.

“Are you leaving?”

“Yeah, sorry.” Michael grabs a small bite from his food and then he’s standing up, pocketting his phone. “Alex wants to meet for dinner.”

At the mention of Alex, Luke has to shake his head a bit. He wasn’t expecting to hear their target’s name in the present tense ever again. “I thought… aren’t we done with him?”

Michael shrugs. “We will be,” he says. “I didn’t want to end it randomly.”

“Are you ending it tonight?”

“It’s too soon, I think.” He’s already heading towards the door, the words coming out carelessly as though he’s only focused on leaving and meeting up with his precious Alex . “Give me a few days. I’ll make it amicable so he doesn’t, you know, suspect I just stole a small fortune from him. I’ll be back tonight, though.” The door shuts behind Michael, but it opens just as quickly. “Don’t eat my food!” And then Michael's gone. As Luke’s left alone in their shared flat, both orders of dinner sitting in front of him, he feels left behind, as though he isn’t Michael's best mate anymore. It’s like he’s just the tech behind the money, a hopeless fool, yearning after the man every socialite in London wants.

He just wants to not hurt anymore.

➴➴➴

A lot of Luke's life is waiting for Michael to return from his “dates.” He can't wander too far from home in case Michael is in trouble or something else goes wrong in the mission.

So when things get boring (or more likely - when Luke gets sick of watching Michael with other men), Luke likes the safety net that is Calum's flat. He finds himself there more often than not when Michael's dates are stagnant.

Usually, he just watches television or raids the kitchen as Calum does work at his table, but on occasion, Calum will join him on the sofa and watch movies or play video games. And that's exactly what they're doing when the door clicks and Michael walks in, shouting, “Hey!”

Neither of the men turn away from their game, but Luke’s quiet reply of “Hey…” is trampled by Calum's shout.

“Hello!”

“You weren’t at home,” Michael comments, his voice drifting closer as he approaches the living room.

“No, I was here.”

“You were supposed to be waiting for me.” The cushion beside Luke dips with Michael's weight, but he still doesn't turn. He's about to beat Calum, and doesn't want any distractions. “Were you even listening in on the date?”

Luke rolls his eyes, not even caring if Michael sees at this point. “I was until Alex started whispering in your ear.”

“The club was loud.”

He doesn't even have to see Michael's face to know there's a pout planted on it. “He was talking about fucking you. I didn’t want to listen in.”

The conversation fades out, allowing Luke to focus on his task at hand. He can still feel Michael's weight at his side, but he's stiff, not as relaxed and playful as usual.

Finally, as the game’s starting to wind down, Michael takes a breath in and asks, “Does that mean you weren’t scouting for people?”

“There wasn’t anyone worth pursuing,” Luke says.

“It was an industry event,” Michael fights. On the television, the game is over and Luke's lost. “Every person in there has a net worth big enough to be a target.”

Suddenly Calum yawns, louder than any conversation has ever been in his flat, “Wow, I’m so tired. I just blanked out for a minute there - ” He turns towards where Michael and Luke are sitting and feigns surprise. “ Michael! I forgot you were here. Luke, why don’t you take him back to your flat. That seems to be a good place to talk about, well, whatever you were talking about. I wouldn’t know.”

Luke is instantly amused. Calum is by far the worst actor Luke's had the misfortune to know. He stands up anyway, stretching. Beside him, Michael does the same. “We ended it - ”

“Hey!” Calum's indignant shout cuts Michael off. He starts shooing them towards the door. “I said go back to your own flat!”

Michael rolls his eyes but leads the way through Calum's living room, past the entry way, and out the door, Luke following as he tries not to laugh at their ridiculous neighbor.

It's not until their back at their own flat that Michael turns to Luke and repeats, “We ended it.”

➴➴➴

The timeframe in which Luke and Michael aren't going after any targets is by far the best in Luke's eyes. It's always nice to have something of value to do with his days, but constantly having to see the man he loves flirt with and fuck other men isn't exactly something he enjoys. Michael gets a thrill out of it. He's confessed to Luke in the past that there's something dangerous and dirty about it that has him addicted. The way he has wealthy, powerful men wrapped around his finger, and all it takes to take everything out from under them is Michael on their knees. Luke understands it, he gets where the adrenaline kick can come from, but it's far different for him. He doesn't crave the danger, doesn't ever enjoy seeing the love of his life acting so illicitly in the personal homes of such influential people. That's why every day that they don't have a target to go after, Luke wakes up refreshed and ready to do absolutely anything so long as it means having Michael safe by his side.

And Michael without a target is more fun, more relaxed, more of who Luke fell in love with. They fall into each other during their breaks and are allowed to be themselves. And Luke knows why he loves Michael every time they make cookies and get flour everywhere, or when they settle in to watch a movie and Michael spoils it, or when they’re cuddling and Michael's cold toes hit his bare calf.

It's easy and it's wonderful, and Luke would give anything for it to be like that forever.

➴➴➴

Usually, the break between targets lasts Luke a good month or two, a solid holiday from criminal activity and heartbreaking hi jinks, but after Alex, Michael surprises Luke and immediately wants to jump back on the horse again. Only two weeks after Alex and Michael end their “relationship,” Michael wanders into the living room, his laptop cradled on his shoulder.

“I found the next target.”

Calum, from his seat on the floor in front of where Luke's lounging on the couch, springs up in the air. “If you want to finish the episode and then text me what happens, that’s alright by me,” he says, heading towards the door before anyone can even so much as say goodbye. “And that… That’s about it. I have to go now. No reason. Goodbye.”

He walks out the door and Michael immediately starts laughing. “If he ever gets taken in for questioning, we’re fucked.” Luke grins and sits up. “Anyway I found our next target.”

Not having let the words sink in the first time Michael said them, Luke's heart sinks. “So soon?”

“Soon?” The laugh that follows is one of shock. “It’s been two weeks.”

“If we keep going at this rate, we’ll - ”

“We’ll what?” The amusement from earlier has drained from Michael's face, and now he's back to the argumentative, thrill-seeking fool that Luke hates having to work with. “Help a bunch of charities? Have money saved up in our offshore? What are you getting at?”

“Nothing. Nevermind.” Luke knows he doesn't stand a chance against Michael when he gets like this. He figures if they dive right in, everything will be fine in a week’s time, and they go back to being best friends as opposed to business partners. “What’s his name?”

Michael smiles flatly. “Ashton Irwin. He’s only twenty-five, but he’s just been appointed Global Head of Skinny Entertainment.”

“When you say just appointed - ”

“It happened this morning.” Michael places the laptop on the coffee table and Luke sees an article from the Sun, the headline reading " **Skinny's New Fat Cat: Ashton Irwin.** ” Immediately, Luke’s worried.

“He’s so new to the industry, Michael. He probably doesn’t even have a penny to his name yet.”

“He does; I checked!” Michael's smug grin graces his face as he clicks to a new tab - Irwin’s twitter. “He was a trust fund kid and has been in high management positions in Manchester. He’s had money since before he could spend it. Best of all, he won’t be suspecting anyone, not when he’s so fresh to the scene.”

Luke considers what Michael's said as he reads the naive and (worryingly) misspelled tweets on Irwin’s social media. “I’m just worried it’s too soon.”

“Well there’s a party being thrown for him on Saturday, so it’s now or never. Can you get us on that guest list?”

“I can, yeah, but - ”

“Perfect,” Michael grins, picking up his computer and turning it to face him. “Let’s do it then.” He walks into the kitchen then, reading his laptop as he goes, and Luke sinks into the couch and burrows into his blanket.

They really don't handle missions the same way.

➴➴➴

Luke watches on, drink in hand, as Michael tries to find time with Irwin at the party, but people keep coming over to congratulate him. It happens time and time again, just when he manages to squeeze himself in next to their target, another big wig hotshot with desperation dripping through their veins steals any attention way.

“I can’t find my way over,” Michael mutters into his mic, voice just loud enough to be heard over the pounding music.

The next time Michael finds his way next to their target, Luke abandons his stool and comes over. He manages to blocks a young blonde girl from going to Irwin by snagging his ring in her shawl. As she moves to step towards the target, Luke loudly gasps. “I am so sorry,” he apologizes as the girl giggles, using nimble fingers to try and untangle to jewelry from her fabric.

“It’s alright,” she waves him off, grinning kindly. “No harm done.”

When they finally manage to sort it out, the girl’s shawl is fine, and Michael is up against Irwin. Luke moves to stand at the other end of the bar to watch, not ready to see Michael trap another man in his web.

Which is fine, considering it doesn't appear to be working anyway.

Irwin keeps a safe distance between himself and every other person in his vicinity. Everytime Michael puts his hand on his arm, their target lets it stay but doesn’t advance. At one point, Michael makes a joke that Irwin must find hilarious as he smiles a huge, puppy dog grin and hands his phone to Michael.

Luke’s perplexed.

At the end of the night, as the party begins to die down, Luke finally manages to steal Michael away from Ashton, as Michael's taken to calling him, and confront him with his worries. “I’m certain he wasn’t into you, Mikey. I think he just wants to be friends.”

“He does,” Michael confirms, further bemusing Luke. “But I think this will be an easier angle to work.”

On one hand, Luke doesn't like the sudden change of events. They'll have to work a new game plan around this, completely remolding the way they operate. It's dangerous and unpracticed, and things could go horribly wrong.

On the other hand, Michael won't be sleeping with their target, and Luke thinks that's just about the best news in the world.

➴➴➴

Even though Michael's eyesight is absolute shit on a good day, he refuses to wear his glasses unless it's for a mission - for his own protection. He claims it “makes me look like a tit, Lukey” and though Luke's inclined to disagree, he doesn't say anything.

Truth is, Michael looks devastating in his glasses, and it makes Luke weak in the knees just to see them sitting on the counter.

Which is exactly what he walks in on the morning of Michael's “bro-date” with Ashton. Michael's glasses are sitting open on the kitchen table, mocking him, as Michael has the camera that's usually attached to them plugged into the laptop. Luke walks silently behind Michael's chair and watches as the program updates. As soon as it's finished, Michael unplugs it and hands the camera to Luke. As Luke's attaching the camera back to the glasses, weaving the ear piece through the frames, Calum walks into the flat, giving a low whistle when he makes his way over to them. “Fancy glasses, Mikey. How come I never see you wear them?”

“They’re only for special occasions,” Michael comments. “I’m meeting someone at the pub.”

“Can I come?”

Luke looks up at that, eyes narrowing as he peers over Michael's fluffy hair. “It’s a target, Calum.”

“That’s a weird thing to call a friend, mate, but who am I to judge?” He shrugs, and Luke has to thin his lips to keep from laughing. He's truly a horrid actor. “Can I come?”

“I say you let him,” Luke says, going back to getting the camera sorted properly on the glasses “Ashton said he was looking for friends, remember?”

“I mean - ”

“I promise I’ll be on my best behavior,” Calum begs, ducking down so he’s shorter than Michael and can look in his eyes. “I’ll even call him a target!”

“Do not - ”

“He’s just kidding Michael,” Luke laughs. “You know he wouldn’t.”

It takes a few seconds of Calum batting his eyelashes before Michael gives in, a sigh racking his entire upper body. “Fine. But you’re paying.”

Calum nods along like a good friend. He's been around long enough to know that there's no arguing with Michael, that there's not going to be a time in which Michael is wrong

➴➴➴

It turns out that Michael was wrong.

Calum doesn’t end up paying because Ashton hands his card off to Michael as soon as they see each other - the very moment Michael approaches him in the bar. Luke's mouth is hanging wide open at such a blatant show of trust that he nearly misses Ashton’s explanation of, “I can’t be trusted when I’ve had too much in me, so you can hold onto that and buy as much as you want. It’s on me tonight.”

Luke can't see Michael's face, but he knows the same dumbfounded look that he's sprouting must be on Michael's face as well. Working with wealthy men, making it their mission to gain access to their personal space, to their money, a moment like this is an absolute fantasy. Never, not once in the nine years they've been doing this, have they gotten access to money from the target themselves. The rich are greedy, materialistic, and untrusting. This moment, this scene playing out in front of Luke's eyes is something he's never dared to dream of.

But there it is. 

Calum must see the shock written across Michael's face, so he takes the lead and grips Ashton by the shoulders. “Mate, you just may be my new favorite person. Let’s get you hammered.”

Calum drags Ashton to the bar and Michael trails behind, keeping his eyes firmly on the plastic card in his hand. Luke takes the hint and begins typing in the information

When they get to the front of the bar, Calum chatting Ashton’s ear off like a good sidekick - as though he was an expert in the game, Michael turns away from the duo and asks, “Do you have it?”

Using the card number, Luke traces the account. He inputs the information to his program, and faster than they've ever been able to before, there's money in their offshore, as well as some in limbo awaiting a charity.

“Done.”

There's a brief laugh from Michael's end, and then he's sliding the card into his pocket and joining Calum and Ashton. Luke watches for a moment before closing the computer and taking out the earpiece, deciding to let Michael have his night out with friends. It's not often he's allowed a carefree night, so Luke thinks he's earned it.

In the meantime, Luke heads to the living room for some alone time himself. He wants to enjoy what’s essentially a night off, left alone from the plaguing concerns that Michael's sleeping with strange men just because they're wealthy.

He manages to doze off, something he doesn't often do, not when he needs to be alert and prepared to leave at a moments notice in case of an emergency with Michael. It's a few hours later that he's awoken by the sound of the front door slamming, Michael's voice carrying into the room. “I’m back!”

Luke sits up, allowing himself the room to stretch as Michael comes into the living room alone. “Where’s Calum?”

“He’s letting Ashton crash on his couch.” Michael tilts his head towards the door and takes a seat on the end cushion of the sofa Luke's been napping on. “I think they got along well.”

“That’s good. I don’t think he’ll be too suspicious if you both get along with him well.”

“I don’t think he’ll be suspicious at all,” Michael laughs. There's a looseness about him that Luke thinks can be put down to his state of inebriation. “He seems like the type of guy that doesn’t check his bank account often. Or remember what he spends money on, really.”

Luke grins at Michael. “He was the perfect victim.”

“Genuinely!” Michael's still laughing, body leaning back against the sofa. “I wouldn’t mind having more like him every once in awhile. Just because it was so fast, you know?”

“Yeah…” Luke wouldn’t mind having more of Ashton, just so Michael didn’t have to sleep with them.

But he’s not going to say that.

➴➴➴

Time passes and they have their highs and lows. Michael sees Ashton every so often, and Luke pines as he usually does, but still enjoys the time they spend together without a target.

Only Michael doesn’t sit still for long this time around.

It’s only a week when Michael barges into the house after another night of hanging out with Ashton. He yells “Matt Pauling” and Calum, not saying a word or even wearing his shoes, walks right out of the flat. Michael spares an odd glance at him before looking back at Luke and repeating, “Matt Pauling.”

Luke doesn't even have to ask to know that Michael's ready to move on. But he feigns naivety and asks anyway. “What about him?”

“He’s our next target.”

“Already?”

Michael narrows his eyes, offence written across his face. “What do you mean already? I haven’t had anyone since Alex.”

Luke grits his teeth against yelling. It seems like their breaks, their vacations, are few and far between, but Michael refuses to acknowledge it. “ _ Ashton _ ?”

“That doesn’t count,” Michael waves him off. “We didn’t sleep together.” Luke flattens his lips, not wanting to say anything and show how he’s really feelings so he nods and faces his computer again. “Don’t you want to know how I found him?” Michael pushes, not reading the tone. “I'm clever, truly.”

“Sure.”

“Well don’t sound so excited…” Luke keeps his mouth closed and his eyes forward. Still, Michael continues. “I complained to Ashton that I was feeling lonely, and didn’t like being single - casually, of course.”

“Of course.” Luke's comment was mostly to himself, a sarcastic acknowledgment of the conversation, but Michael grins as though Luke's actively inputting his thought in a sincere manner.

He isn't.

“And he told me about his friend, Matt, from Manchester who’s visiting over the weekend, and wants someone to show him around a bit.”

“How do you know he’s rich?” Luke finds himself asking.

“He was Ashton’s boss back when he worked at a different production company. The man is loaded.”

“Alright then,” Luke agrees, face blank, devoid of the emotion he doesn't want to show. Michael runs off to his room, excited as he usually is at the beginning of a new plan. He's so blinded by his own anticipation that he can't see that everyday they do this, Luke's breaking apart.

➴➴➴

The night of Michael's first date with Matt, Luke doesn’t listen in. There’s something about listening in on the love of his life with yet another man so soon that has Luke feeling sick. The time frames in which Michael goes out with these targets is getting closer and closer together. If the pattern continues, Luke’s afraid it’ll get to the point that there’s no rest at all.

That he won’t get to be alone with Michael ever again.

He tells Michael that his brother wants to sit down with him over dinner and that he’s only available tonight to do it. Obviously, it’s all a lie, but Michael buys it easily, not thinking Luke to be the type to lie. He even offers to change the night of their date, but Luke insists that he doesn’t keep Matt waiting, not when he’s only in town for a short while.

So Michael goes on his date.

And Luke drinks a third of the liquor cabinet.

He passes out sometime around eight, and Michael falls into bed at ten, waking him up. He smells like booze, and his body is limp - no doubt that Luke wasn’t the only one poisoning his liver tonight.

“Good morning, sleepy head,” Michael sighs gently, his warm breath hitting Luke’s neck.

Luke groans and stretches out on the bed as much as he can without pushing Michael off. “Wha’time is it?”

There’s a giggle, the rustling of the sheets, and then Michael's arms wrapping around Luke’s body. “ ‘s only 10, Grandpa . Why are you asleep?”

“Was tired.” He passed out after drinking too much.

“Well wake up,” Michael insists. “I want to talk.”

It takes a moment, but then Luke remembers exactly why he drank so much, exactly why he was passed out at ten pm on a Friday night. He knows what Michael wants to talk about, he knows to expect talks of Matt and the magnificent date, and how wealthy the man is. Luke doesn’t want to talk about that. He wants to talk about shitty television shows, and recipes that Michael's failed to cook correctly, and the ridiculous plans they have for when they get out of the game.

Yet here they are, both far more impaired than necessary, and about to talk about a man that’s everything Luke isn’t.

For a moment, Luke’s tempted to fall back asleep, to ignore Michael's incessant shoving of his shoulder, but he can’t do that. Not when Michael's eyes are so bright and all he wants to do is talk to Luke.

“I’m awake,” he groans eventually.

Michael hums, but says nothing further. For a moment it’s quiet between them, Luke and Michael staring at each other, waiting for the first to speak. In the end, it’s Michael to break the silence, but instead of being light hearted, meaningless conversation, he manages to break Luke’s heart in six words.

“Why am I so fucked up?” Almost as if he hadn’t just asked something so pained, so provoking of deep thought, Michael yawns. Luke feels his eyes widen, but he doesn’t say anything, just watches Michael pout. “Why can’t I find someone to love me?” He’s speaking so casually, and it feels surreal, like a bad dream brought on by all the rum he’d consumed. It’s real though - it’s always real. “It’s like - ‘s like I meet someone cute and nice and then I steal from them.”

“I - ”

“How do you do it, Lukey?” Michael asks, and Luke’s stunned with the accusatory tone he holds.

Luke’s mouth is dry and he swallows around nothing to try and answer. “How do I do what?”

“How do you just not date?” Michael huffs, both of his shoulders jolting with the movement. It’d almost be funny if Michael weren’t clearly hurting so bad. “You don’t sleep with  _ anyone _ . It’s been years for you, hasn’t it?”

“About two years actually - ”

Michael gestures to him with a playful roll of his eyes. “Yeah, see? How do you do that?”

The answer’s easy. Luke doesn’t sleep with anybody because he  _ can’t _ . Nobody really chats him up anymore, and when they do, within the first few moments of talking, it’s obvious that his heart is bleeding for Michael, that there’s never even a chance that he’d sleep with someone other than the only person he’s ever had eyes for. So the answer is quite simple.

Yet Luke can’t say any of it.

“I just don’t, I guess.”

Michael sighs, his head rolling overdramatically as he does. “I wish I could do that,” he says. “Could go so long. But these men, they smile at me, and make me feel good, and I just drop my trousers like some floozy because that’s the best it gets for me.”

“Michael - ”

“I don’t think I’m ever gonna be happy, Lukey.” For the first time that night, Luke sees real anguish in Michael's eyes, and it breaks Luke. “You’re lucky you don’t think about love too much.” He pauses to yawn. “It’s a real burden.”

It’s not even a minute later that Michael's falling asleep on Luke’s pillow, looking absolutely at peace as it pushes all the negative thoughts out of his head. The night goes on, but Luke stays awake.

All he can think about is love, pain, and how Michael doesn’t know just how fucking wrong he is.

➴➴➴

In the wake of their conversation, things turn sour in Luke’s mind.

Since the very moment they’d met, Luke’s been in love with Michael. It’s just who he is - a distant thrum in the back of his mind as he deals with watching Michael sleep with various wealthy men. Sometimes, though, sometimes it’s more than that.

Like now - after Michael's just confessed his fear that nobody will ever love him, it’s all Luke can think about. How can he not - Michael's the most intoxicating person Luke’s ever met, and even after years of sleeping in the room across the hall from him, Luke still finds everything he does absolutely captivating, still craves an intimacy that Michael shares with everybody except him.

The idea that Michael thinks he isn’t loved is absolutely insane. He’s the only man Luke’s ever loved in his life.

In lieu of telling Michael, like any sane person would do, Luke keeps quiet. They’re taking from a big target tonight and the last thing Michael needs is for Luke to confess something that would change their entire dynamic and - more than likely - end their friendship. He chooses not to flip things around with a confession that’d do more than harm than good, and instead, sits back and watches on his laptop screen as Michael knocks on Matt’s hotel door, the textured ‘ **804** ’ mocking Luke. 

One day, Luke hopes to end this thing they call a career. It’d be nice to feel secure without risking their lives and reputations. It’d be even better to not bear witness to Michael using his body like a weapon.

On the screen, Matt answers the door and Luke immediately doesn’t trust him. He’s classically handsome - attractive in a way that would seem insignificant if he weren’t rich - and he looks absolutely  _ evil _ . Luke wants Michael out of there, and fast, but he knows saying something wouldn’t be received well so he sits back and lets Michael smile whisper a hello to Satan reincarnate. 

“Michael, welcome.” Matt leans forward to kiss Michael's cheek and Michael sighs with it. “I’m so glad you could make it.”

“Of course.” One of the worst parts of all of this is that Luke doesn’t get to see Michael - he’s stuck watching these men that Michael chooses to share himself with instead of the ephemeral beauty that is the love of his life. “You’re only in town a few more days. I wanted to see you off.”

“See me off, is that right?” The smirk on Matt’s face at his own ‘joke’ has Luke feeling sick to his fucking stomach. “Come in, love. I’ve got wine.”

Matt extends his arm, holding the door open, and Michael enters, having to slide between Matt and the doorframe, the older of the two smirking as he does.

It’s infuriating.

As the night transpires, and Michael works his magic, Luke sits watching, absolutely miserable. The night seems to completely revolve around Matt - their conversations about his work, why he’s in town, and what type of deal he’s hoping to make with his clients. His hand has been climbing it’s way up Michael thigh as the conversation develops, getting more and more revolting in topics. At one point Matt makes a joke about wanting to vacation in Saint Barths before he goes to Los Cabos for Christmas, and the smug laugh he makes has Luke’s fists clenching at his side. What he’d give to punch this man square in the face…

The only thing getting Luke through these missions is knowing that these disgusting men only care about their wealth, and in the end, Michael and Luke are on the same page when it comes to money.

Nobody needs as much as Matt has.

“What do you say we take this to the bedroom?” Michael asks after they’ve been dancing around each other with subtle touches and soft voices for far too long. Luke breathes a sigh of relief. Once he pulls access to Matt’s files, he can close his computer and get out of this personal hell for a bit.

“I’m not normally this easy, but - ”

“Oh, I bet you aren’t,” Michael chuckles, cutting him off. “You are a man of respect, aren’t you?”

Matt leans down and all Luke sees is a flash of teeth as he bites Michael's lip. The anger Luke feels burns in his throat. “I’m going to step into the bathroom, and when I get back, I want you naked in my bed.”

“Yes, sir.” Michael's breathing is shallow, clearly affected by Matt’s kiss.

Luke rips the headphones out throws his head in his hands. It seems like more and more lately, the work is too much for him. Michael's his own person, he can sleep with who he wants, but Luke can’t witness it anymore - each sly look is another crack in his porcelain heart, letting his love bleed out and drip until he’s empty. Only a shell of the man he used to be - having given everything to a man that will never love him back.

When Luke looks up, he sees Michael passing out of the kitchen and walking into the bedroom. It only takes a quick search for him to find the laptop under the bed and inserts the chip. Luke clicks the video out, not needing it anymore, and quickly saves all of Matt's files to his laptop, not doing anything yet because he doesn’t want to sit here while Michael's being fucked by a man who embodies everything Luke hates in the world.

He grabs his phone and keys off the counter and storms out of their flat and into Calum’s. He slams the door shut and immediately begins pacing the hardwood floor.

“What’s wrong?”

Luke jerks at the sound of Calum’s voice to see him standing by the stove, stirring something in a skillet. He kind of wants to throw it across the room.

“I hate this,” he spits, walking closer to the tile of the kitchen before stopping himself and turning back. “I hate that we do this. I hate Ashton Irwin, and I hate Matt Pauling.” He spins again and walks into the kitchen. He’s restless.

“I take it Michael's date didn’t go well…” Calum says sarcastically, voice trailing off as he adds something to his pan.

“No, it did.” Luke’s skin is vibrating, he’s so upset. “It went great. It went, thigh squeezing, lip biting, ‘wait naked in my bed’ well.”

Calum smirks, licking his teeth, and Luke’s hands clench tightly at his sides. “Sounds kind of hot, actually,” he says. Luke punches Calum’s arm and Calum cackles as it makes him stumble a bit sideways. “You clearly have the insight as to what Michael likes, Luke. Why don’t you put them in play? Squeeze his thigh, bite his lip a little.”

“It’s more than sex, you know that.” Luke groans, bringing his hands up to his head, letting them loosen the strands at the top where it’s pulled into a bun. “I love him.”

It’s just plain frustrating at this point, loving Michael. He wants to be a supportive best mate, to be there for him when he needs somebody, but as of late it’s too difficult to do without letting his feelings get in the way. Hell, he’d even let them if there was even the smallest sliver of a chance that Michael liked him back. But he doesn’t want to try, doesn’t want to risk Michael lying about liking Luke if only to feel loved.

He doesn’t just want to fill a space in Michael's life because he’s lonely. 

Suddenly, the phone in Luke’s hand starts vibrating, and not soon after, there’s a maddening repetitive beeping blasting from the speakers. It’s surprises him enough to drop the phone, and as it falls to the ground, Luke takes notices of the red covering the screen.

His heart falls to floor too.

Ignoring Calum’s questioning, Luke grabs his phone and races out of the flat and down the stairs, no time to stop and wait for the elevator.

There’s only been one other time Luke’s phone has gone that wild, and it was when they were first testing their emergency button years back when they’d first began to make their hobby something more serious. Neither of the two have ever been in a situation dangerous enough that they needed to press the button.

Until now.

Luke makes his way through the parking garage, pulling his keys from his pockets, and throwing himself into his car, and starting it before the door’s even shut. He’s driving before he even knows where he’s going.

The tracker on his phone pulls up automatically when the red alert is activated, something Luke never thought would be as important as he does right now.

In his head, he’s seeing visions of what could be wrong, worries of Michael, hurt, dying - all because Luke’s a jealous asshole that couldn’t handle just five more minutes to make sure everything was settled. The moment he closed the laptop he’d been filled with dread, and now Michael's in danger, and it’s all Luke’s fault.

Thankfully Matt Pauling is important enough to stay at the Park Plaza as it’s only a five minute drive from their flat. Luke’s pulling in front of the building and racing out without so much as locking his door. Blood is rushing to his ears and his heart is pounding through every inch of his body - it’s the most afraid he’s ever been.

The elevator takes too long, so Luke takes the stairs again, running as quickly as he can, taking two at a time, until he reaches the eighth floor. He slows his steps a bit, out of breath and trembling, as he goes down the hall, not allowing himself to rest until he comes across room ‘ **804** ’.

He tries the handle, and the door opens, but the chain is latched, preventing him from opening the door completely. Peeking inside, he can’t see any movement but then there’s a thud and the sound of glass breaking, and Luke’s blood runs cold.

It’s not until Luke’s storming through the flat that he realizes he kicked the door open.

He finds Matt standing outside of a closed door, yelling obscenities and holding what looks like ripped fabric. As Luke gets closer, he realizes it’s a part of the shirt Michael was wearing when he’d left the house, and he reacts without thinking.

Matt turns when he senses Luke, but he doesn’t even get to fully ask, “Who are you” before Luke’s arm is pulling back and he’s knocking Matt directly in the face. He crumbles straight to the floor, and Luke doesn’t wait a moment to begin calling for Michael.

It’s a blur, pulling Michael from the hotel room, yelling a threat of what he’s to find on Matt’s computer were he to even think about calling the police. It’s their failsafe.

Once he and Michael are successfully outside of the building, Luke doesn’t pull him to the car just yet. His mind is racing and both of them are shaking - Luke needs to make sure Michael's not harmed.

The moment he pulls them into an alleyway next to the hotel, Michael's falling into Luke’s arms, sobbing his heart out. Luke holds hims close, letting Michael cry into his shoulder for a while. They’ll be safer at home, but comforting Michael is his number one priority.

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you,” Luke whispers into Michael's hairline. The guilt inside of him burns. “You mean the world to me, Mikey, I shouldn’t have left you alone.” Michael's crying doesn’t cease. If anything, it gets worse, breaking Luke’s heart with each wet gasp. “I love you so much, and you deserve better than men like Matt Pauling. You deserve the world, and one day you’ll have it, love. You’ll be with someone who would bring you the stars and let them burn through his hands. You deserve everything.”

His words echo through the empty alleyway. Something between them snapped tonight.

➴➴➴

Michael sleeps through the next two nights, and Luke digs through every last encoded file on Matt’s laptop, grabbing every proof of fraudulent tax filing and unethical porn search he’s ever had. It takes a lot of work, but it’s necessary.

He sends off an email from a disposable address with the attached file. He writes _“We all have secrets,”_ and gets nothing back in return. They’re safe, their profession is no longer at risk, but it doesn’t feel good at all.

They still failed, and it’s hitting Michael the hardest.

➴➴➴

It’s not until the third day after the incident that Michael comes out of his room. Luke and Calum have been standing around the kitchen chatting when Michael emerges. He’s dressed up, tight jeans and loose shirt, his pulling outfit. He’s missing the usual shine in his eyes and tilt to his lips that he has on a night spent clubbing, and Luke’s worried.

“Michael!” He yells, hoping he comes off as excited, but knowing he’s just being loud. “Hey, hi! What’re… What’s up?”

“I’m going out.” Michael tries to smile, but Luke knows him too well, can see the cracks in his mask, the hurt that’s shining through.

It’s been years of them being best mates, and Luke’s been in love with him for nearly the entire time. He knows Michael's strong, knows he’s a fighter, but sometimes that isn’t always a great thing. It’s times like these - times when something tragic happened and he needs nothing more than to rest - that the strength Michael has isn’t something he needs to prove. He can still be strong as he heals, and Luke only wishes he could see that.

“Yeah?” Luke asks, mind racing, trying to find a way to keep Michael from leaving. “Where to?”

“A club, I think?” Michael shrugs. “To scout for the next one. Rent is due in a week.”

He reaches for his keys, resting on the counter, but Luke swipes them before Michael's hands make contact. “We have more than enough money saved up, love. We can wait until you’re feeling more up to it.”

“I can’t hide away forever,” Michael bites. He’s already beginning to walk around the counter to grab the keys from Luke’s palm. “We were almost caught, but we have to get over it.  _ I  _ have to get over it.”

“I - I have this friend from the gym,” Calum speaks up. His eyes are wide, watching their exchange. Luke had completely forgotten he was there, but he isn’t worried about what he’s heard. Calum knows more than enough to have them convicted, but at this point he’s more of an accomplice than a witness. “He’s pretty well off - family money, you know? I think he’d be a great… boyfriend ?”

Luke’s neck about snaps with the effort and speed he puts into looking at Calum. He feels betrayed, his eyes slitted as he tries to convey his anger and disappointment, but Calum’s absolutely relaxed, looking innocent, like he hadn’t just thrown the love of Luke’s life into bed with another man.

Not noticing the war Luke’s trying to declare, Michael merely shrugs. “Set it up I guess.” Calum nods and takes his phone out, and Michael takes Luke’s anger as the distraction he needs to rip the keys from his palm. “I still think I’m going to go out, though. I’ll see you later.”

Luke smiles thinly and waves as Michael leaves, but the moment the door shuts… “What the  _ fuck _ , Calum?”

“Don’t worry,” Calum waves his hand at Luke. “Roy won’t sleep with him.”

“Then why - ”

“I have a plan, mate,” Calum says, looking up from his phone to grin. “You just need to trust me.”

He looks at Calum, sees the smirk on his face, the gleam in his eyes, and knows immediately that this is a bad idea. “I don’t .”

“Well you can’t say no now.” Calum looks down and continues his typing. Luke glares the entire time. He doesn’t trust him as far as he can throw him.

But he supposes he has to.

➴➴➴

Despite Luke’s constant wishing that Calum’s friend would back out, the day of Michael's scouting date comes. There’s really no need for Luke to stay listening as there are no results online for one Roy English, but Michael wants him there for safety, so Luke’s in his bedroom, feeling like his heart is withering away, as he watches the screen closely, wanting for Michael to be anywhere else.

No deities are looking down on him, it seems, as Michael's currently walking into the Hélène Darroze, speaking quietly with the maitre d. He’s quickly led to a table where there’s a man with his head down as he looks over a wine menu.

“Roy?” Michael wonders. Roy looks up and -

Of course he’s beautiful. Fuck  _ off _ , Calum. He’s by far the most attractive lad Michael's ever gone out with, and Luke finds himself fearing Michael may fall in love with him.

Luke’s already halfway there.

“Yeah.” Roy smiles, and even Luke sighs at how fucking enchanting he is. Roy stands up and holds his hand out for Michael to shake. “‘s nice to meet you.” When they break contact, Roy pulls back, gesturing to the chairs. “Should we sit?”

His smile is ridiculous, and his eyes honest to god  _ sparkle _ . Even through the camera lense, Luke’s charmed.

Michael lets out a laugh as they sit, sounding shocked, full of disbelief, and Luke can’t blame him. Somehow Calum - vague, quiet Calum - is friends with a supermodel, and he’s only chosen now to share him with the world.

After a moment of silence, Michael clears his throat. “Calum didn’t tell me much about you, just that you met at the gym? Do you work there or?”

“At the gym?” Roy laughs at the thought. “I’m a painter, actually. Photographer when I’m feeling experimental. I just go to the gym to blow off steam.”

The glasses fall and the camera angle is changed. Luke can tell Michael's playing coy, and it makes his hands clench at his side.

“You look more like the subject than the artist,” he flirts. Roy smirks, licking his teeth, and Luke’s knows he’s fucked.

From there, things develop, but Luke never has to even attempt to google anything. Roy’s only asking about Michael, interested in hearing only about his life. It’s all stuff Luke knows, has known for most of his adult life, and the only reason he even sticks around is to hear Michael speak with passion. It’s something Luke’s always loved, the way Michael cares so deeply, and isn’t afraid to say he does, letting all of his love bleed into his words.

So the date occurs, and it’s not too uncomfortable to watch. That is, at least, until Roy brings Luke up.

“So you live with your mate from college?” he asks, taking a sip of his wine. Michael nods, the camera jolting a bit with the eager movement. “How’s that going?”

“Really well, I’d say.” The camera moves down as he speaks, not quite looking at Roy any longer. “Luke’s a good friend.”

Luke’s heart drops at the word. It’s poison to his feelings. 

“And nothing, you know, happened, like.” Roy speaks like he knows the answer to all of his questions already, and it makes Luke’s heart pound in his chest. “Neither of you have wanted to take it further?”

Without thinking about how fucking obvious it is, Luke speaks in the microphone, “Michael, I think you’ve got it from here. I’m taking off. Buzz me if you need me.” He rips his earphones out, not wanting to hear Michael desecrate any possibilities of them actually ending up together.

He paces the flat for a while, wanders in and out of Michael's room a few times before shaking his head, deciding to just suck it up and move on already. He grabs his phone from the living room table and goes to Calum’s.

Calum is at his table looking over a bunch of papers, he has glasses hanging low on his nose. Luke almost feels bad for disturbing him… almost . When Calum senses Luke, he looks up, nose scrunching, and he pushes his glasses back up.

Luke watches the whole thing, wishing he was in the mood to laugh at how nerdy Calum looks. Instead, he can only frown. “Your mate Roy is weird.”

“Is the date over?” Calum looks gleeful and Luke kind of wants to hit him a few times. Then after, fall into his chest crying. He looks away instead.

“No, I couldn’t listen anymore,” Luke says. “He kept asking - ”

“Lukey, What the  _ fuck _ ?” At Calum’s bite, Luke looks up, to see Calum standing now, eyes slitted. “Get back over there!”

“Why?” Luke asks, eyebrows falling together. “It’s like he’s giving Michael a job interview, and I can’t watch it anymore.”

“Luke,” Calum groans. His shoulders hunch, his hands falling on the table to support his weight. “ _ Please _ , for love of Christ, just go back and listen. Roy’s trying to get Michael to talk, trying to end this whole fucking…” He gestures around at Luke, hand waving carelessly. “Thievery, Robin Hood, wealthy martyr  _ bullshit _ you’ve got going on.”

Luke’s eyes widen, not at the yelling or the language or the insult of it all, but because Calum’s gone and done something he’s never done in all of the years and years he’s known Luke and Michael. “You - you mentioned our stealing.”

“Luke,” Calum’s lips are pursed, and he’s refusing to play along with Luke’s shock. “Get the fuck out of my flat, and go listen, I beg of you.” When Luke doesn’t move, Calum’s frenzied eyes and wild gestures change to him rushing out of the chair and shoving Luke out of his flat with a few bruising shoves.

Confused, and now locked out of his neighbor’s place, Luke walks back into his own flat, to his bedroom, still shocked, but ready to do as Calum says. When he opens the laptop, it takes a moment to load, and then it reveals a video of the sidewalk.

It seems the dinner is over, and now Michael's walking somewhere. Luke sits, waiting to hear Roy’s voice, or to his face on the camera, but it doesn’t come. Luke doesn’t even realize he never put his earphones in until there’s an odd noise coming from them. As he goes to grab them, Michael onscreen places his phone in front of the camera, bringing up his contacts and clicking Luke’s name.

Luke digs around in his pockets, pulling out his phone just as it starts ringing. “Hello?” he answers, not sure what to expect. “Michael?” There’s a sad, weepy gasp, and Luke wants to hold him immediately. “Mikey? Are you alright?”

“Roy wasn’t interested in me.”

“What happened?” Luke rushes to ask. “Did he say something?”

It’s silent for a minute, and Luke holds his breath. The only thing stopping him from urging an answer out of Michael is seeing on screen, still walking and perfectly fine. “No…” He sighs. “Yeah… I don’t want to talk about it.”

“That’s alright too,” Luke all but whispers. He feels so lost. Calum’s insistence that he watch Michael, only leading to him walking home. It all feels off. “Do you - where are you? Do you need me to come get you?”

“No, I’m almost home.” He’s not. He’s at least a fifteen minute walk, but Luke doesn’t call him out on it. “Could you, um, make me some tea or something? I just - ” He sniffles, and suddenly there’s a lump in Luke’s throat.

Something happened. Something that hurt Michael's feelings.

“Yeah, ‘f course, Mikey.”

The camera moves up and down, and then Michael's taking a deep breath. “Thank you. I’ll be home soon, I just - ”

He cuts himself off and Luke understands completely, doesn’t want to make him keep talking when it’s so clearly a challenge for him. “I’ll see you soon, alright?” He lets sincerity bleed into his tone, not wanting Michael to doubt how much he cares. “Stay safe.”

Michael's voice is barely there when he says bye, and then the line goes dead. Michael stops walking the moment his phone is in his pocket, falling into the side of a building as he sobs loud enough Luke can hear it through the earphones he isn’t wearing.

All Luke wants is to listen, wants to be there, but he feels dirty for invading Michael's privacy. So he shuts the laptop screen and goes to start the kettle up.

Michael gets home twenty minutes later and immediately falls into Luke’s arms. Luke holds him as he sobs into his chest, knowing that it’s time to comfort his best mate. Even so, he can’t help but feel like this is for him as well. Whatever happened, whatever broke Michael, broke a bit of Luke too.

Michael calms down from his tears after a few minutes, and Luke takes him to the living room, laying him down and cuddling him close as they let a movie go unwatched in the background. Michael only takes a few drinks of his tea, and Luke only gets more worried.

They don’t talk about the date, they don’t bring up Roy, or their work, or  _ anything _ . They pretend to watch a film, both overthinking everything and speaking nothing of it.

It’s not until a few hours later, as Luke is falling asleep, that Michael finally whispers, “I’m beginning to think nobody could ever love someone as broken as me.”

And Luke’s heart breaks.

➴➴➴

It’s been a hard few days, and Michael's confidence is at an all time low after two unsuccessful, soul-crushing missions. Luke spends the time seething, cursing Calum out for throwing Michael into the arms of somebody who was just going to spit him out in the end.

It’s a dark time in their flat for sure, but Luke gets to work.

He begins scouting for events occurring soon, and he searches the guest list for those who are set to be in attendance. As sick as it makes him, as much as he hates the idea of Michael falling into bed with someone, this is what he needs. This is what Luke can do for him.

One day, it won’t come to this. One day, their finances will be secure enough for Michael, and he will believe in himself again, and they won’t have resort to this dirty work. But for now, Luke hacks into a local club’s computers and gets himself and Michael on the list.

It’s his last chance, and he needs it to work.

➴➴➴

Their target’s name is Jack Barakat.

When Luke first came across his name on the guest list for an exclusive club opening, he’d been skeptical. Wealthy men are almost a commodity in London, easy to come by and nothing special, if Luke’s speaking honestly. Any given day of the week, Luke can walk into an event and find at least three men ready to fall to their knees to bed Michael - that’s never been an issue.

Finding men in the public eye is where lies the real treasure.

In the years they’ve spent in their profession, Luke’s noticed a few things about Michael's preferences. While getting any attention is an ego boost for Michael, he feels spectacularly confident when he’s targeting someone famous - or at least well known.

Luke first noticed Michael's interest about a year after they’d graduated uni when Luke made friends with a local stage actor, John. John visited the flat quite often to listen to music with Luke and enjoy a drink or two. They’d never robbed John - he was never interested in Michael like that - but on the odd occasion that he’d compliment Michael or spend a noticeable amount of time chatting to him, Michael would spend the next few days floating above the ground.

The first famous target they had - an American actor - nearly stole Michael from the game completely. Chad Michael Murray, Michael's childhood crush, was a get Luke still to this day can’t believe they landed. The man was putty in Michael's hand, and they could’ve stolen his entire fortune effortlessly. The only issue was just how strongly Michael returned his feelings.

The only thing preventing him from running away to America with Chad was Michael realizing exactly what it’d mean to uproot his life, to move thousands of miles from his friends and family. In the end, he broke Chad’s heart, and for months Michael walked cock first into every room, and took any man he wanted as a target - even the married men claiming they were straight.

Michael couldn’t be stopped.

It’s the kind of confidence he needs to get back. Luke refuses to rest until Michael's back to the strong, self-assured man he is, one hand in his pocket and the other in the bank accounts of wealthy men.

Jack Barakat is a successful Music Producer, and he’s absolutely adored by England’s general public. Getting him alone is going to be difficult. But once accomplished, it will be easy to charm him as he has proven to be easy to talk to. And when Michael has him, it'll put an end to the past misfortunes.

He’ll be his typical, wonderful self again.

Right now, Michael's deep into the crowd of writhing, dancing bodies, trying to get close to Jack. Luke’s keeping his eye out, but he lost track of him when he disappeared onto the dancefloor fifteen minutes ago, and Luke figures there’s no use in both he and Michael sweating their ass off in the crowd.

Instead, Luke’s resorted to resting at the bar, listening to Michael ramble in his earphone, pissed that Jack grabbed some twink to dance with when Michael was standing right there.

“I’ve been told my ass is to die for,” Michael bites, “but he couldn’t’ve cared less, are you kidding me?”

Luke chuckles a bit at that. It’s the closest Michael's come to sounding like himself in awhile, so it’s great to hear, even if it means they aren’t any closer to having Jack on the hook. “We’ll get another chance soon, Michael.”

“Oh will we?”

“Of course.” Luke’s voice has dropped a bit, hoping he sounds sincere in his attempt to talk Michael up. “You never fail, remember?”

Michael mumbles, “Failed once,” and Luke bites his lip at the bitter tone.

This is all they need, just one solid target to turn Michael's mindset around. Things will go back to normal, and they can be  _ MichaelandLuke _ again, stealing from the wealthy to support their own frivolous, platonic lifestyle.

“Try catching him when the song switches,” Luke advises, needing to say something to turn Michael's attitude around, to share some optimism. “Maybe he’ll get tired of his twink.”

“If I can find them, I’ll give it a shot.”

Luke bites his tongue against yelling at Michael for losing them. He needs to make tonight a positive one, needs Michael's self-esteem high. He can’t yell for something that easily would’ve happened to himself. “I’ll keep an eye out at the bar.”

Michael laughs. “Have a Guinness in my honor.”

“If I’m having a Guinness, it’s for Calum, babe.”

The night goes on, and Michael continues his search in the crowd as Luke keeps an eye on the outskirts. They’re both unsuccessful in finding Jack, and too long has past for them to be sure he’s still in the club, so they begin to discuss calling it quits and trying another night, possibly even going for a casual meeting outside of Jack's work building, when there’s a voice next to Luke’s.

“Hiya, love.” There’s a familiarity to it that Luke can’t quite place. “Is this seat taken?”

Luke looks up and upon recognizing the face before him, he chokes on his drink a bit. “I - uh, no. No it isn’t.” Luke gestures for Jack Barakat to have a seat, and he smiles.

It’s just as charming in person as everyone says.

“So what are you doing up here all by your lonesome?” Jack asks once he’s settled. He’s leaning heavily on his right side, his entire body aimed at Luke as he engages in conversation.

“Who is that, Luke?” Michael asks through the ear phones. He sounds annoyed, and Luke only wishes he could just yell for him to get over here. “They’re awfully loud.”

“I’m, um…” Luke gestures to the dancefloor loosely, feeling drunk despite his overwhelming sobriety. “My friend went to dance.”

Jack hums, but it doesn’t seem dismissive. In fact, he leans a bit closer to Luke, eyes scanning over his features. “Your friend, huh? Any chance your friend minds me stealing your attention for a bit?”

“I don’t - ”

Michael's agitated sigh rings through the earphones. “Seriously, Lukey, who is that?”

“I don’t know,” Luke answers Jack, unable to say anything to Michael without looking insane.

Jack laughs.

“Don’t know?” Jack laughs. Despite Luke slightly brushing him off, “Well how about you think of it, and if he doesn’t mind, I buy you a drink?”

“Okay…”

Luke looks out in the crowd, eyes dashing between both ends for a moment before Michael emerges, looking for Luke with the space between his brows wrinkled in confusion. When he sees Luke his eyes widen, surprise evident on his face.

“Jack Barakat is next to you,” Michael says. Luke goes to respond but Michael shakes his head. “We can work with this.” Work with this? They don’t need to ‘work with this.’ Luke needs Michael to come over here and sit on Jack’s lap or do whatever he does to seduce their targets. “I’m heading over, don’t look at me.”

Without appearing suspicious, Luke looks away, glancing at Jack. It was the wrong move as Jack’s already smiling at him, so Luke smiles back, timid and confused.

He waits a moment, but soon looks up and sees Michael settling on the opposite end of the bar. He doesn’t know what’s happening, can’t understand why Michael isn’t over here to seduce their target, but he trusts Michael to know what he’s doing.

Or at least, he thought he did until -

“Alright, Lukey. It looks like this one’s yours.” Luke looks to Michael with wide eyes, wanting nothing more than for him to laugh, say he’s joking, and come take his target, but Michael isn’t smiling, and Luke knows he’s serious. “Apologize to him, and tell him you’re a bit starstruck. He’s a narcissist, he’ll be flattered.”

Luke holds his bottom lip between his teeth, feeling nervous in a way he never has before. He’s sitting in Michael's place, about to attempt to seduce their target, something he’s never done, never had the ability to, and it’s all a bit much.

He has to calm himself down, and hype himself up. This is their only chance, and they can’t let the target slip through their fingers. Luke takes a deep breath and turns to speak, only when he does, Jack’s mouth is open to say something. They both close their mouths, and Luke lets out a disbelieving laugh.

Jack gestures to him. “You can go first, love.”

“I - ”

It’s been a long journey leading them here, years and years of manipulating wealthy men and robbing them blind. Every step of the way, Michael and Luke have been together, on each other’s side. That’s how Michael can tell when Luke’s about to drown, when this is all about to become too much.

Which is why, in a soft, calm voice, he says, “C’mon, Lukey. You can do this.” It’s not the pep talk of the century, and it doesn’t fill Luke with all of the confidence in the world. But it’s something. Something good, something pure. It’s a light in the darkness guiding Luke’s way.

He can do this. 

Through a thick throat, Luke rasps, “I’m sorry.” He shakes his head, needing to get ahold of himself. Michael's watching, rooting him on, he can’t let him down. “I’m just a big fan.”

If at all possible, Luke can actually see Jack’s head get bigger.

“Are you?” he asks. Luke nods, hoping it comes off more sincere than awkward. “And here I thought I could chat up a man who hasn’t yet been tainted by the media’s portrayal of a poor, single music producer.”

“Chat up?”

“Jesus Christ.” There’s a thump from the other end of the headphones, and looking over, Luke can see that Michael's thrown his head into his arms.

Jack laughs and something sharp takes over his grin. “You sound surprised. I’m sure you’ve got plenty other suitors besides myself.”

“I don’t - not usually.” Suddenly Luke feels overwhelmed. Jack’s awfully close, and he’s showering Luke in these hidden compliments. He’s not meant to be here, this isn’t his role. “ _ Ever _ , really.”

Usually it’s Michael everyone has their eyes on. Not that Luke can blame them - he’s always doing the same. It’s a big part of the reason he’s managed to go so long without sleeping with anybody - Michael takes up so much space, he’s so lively and vibrant. When they’re together, all anybody can watch is Michael.

Which is exactly how it should be.

“You’re blind, Lukey,” Michael mumbles.

“I’m finding that hard to believe, love,” Jack says. He keeps leaning in closer, filling Luke’s space with his own. He has no clue how Michael does this often. “You’re by far the most interesting person here tonight.”

Luke laughs a bit. “But you’re Jack Barakat.”

“That I am.” Jack grins, and Luke can see exactly how he’s managed to charm the majority of England. “I see celebrities every day of my life. I think I know a star when I see one.” Luke can feel himself blushing, is unsure of what to do next when Jack’s looking at him like he’s the only person in the club.

“He’s really throwing you lines.” Michael laughs, the usually joyful sound a bitter ache in Luke’s ear. Suddenly he feels shitty. This was supposed to be for Michael. Michael who keeps getting rejected - and here Luke is stealing his thunder, his target. It makes him sick.

“Listen - ”

“I don’t - ”

They both chuckle a bit, and Jack takes it upon himself to speak first. “I don’t want this to be some club hookup, so what do you say about me giving you my number? You could give me a call in the morning and we could get dinner.”

Luke’s breath catches in his throat and he looks to Michael, only to see Michael's eyes focused on the bartop, his mouth set in a firm line. He’s upset, and Luke’s to blame. “I don’t - ”

“Lukey, give him your number,” Michael insists in his ear. “We need this cash.”

They  _ don’t _ .

That’s always Michael's go-to response, that they need the cash, but they don’t. They’ve got enough set aside to live comfortably without working for the next decade. Tonight was to benefit Michael, to make him feel good about himself again. To see his worth. But Michael's insisting, and Luke doesn’t want to say no to him. 

He never could say no to Michael and his beautiful green eyes and his heart filled with love.

“How about I give you mine?” Luke offers instead.

Jack grins and hands his phone off. Luke starts to fill out his contact, feeling absolutely shaken. This is unseen territory for him. “How do I know you’re not giving me a decoy?”

“You could call me right now.”

Jack shrugs. “I’ll just trust that you’re a good lad who wouldn’t hurt my feelings.”

His eyes are on Luke, so Luke grins, but there’s self depreciating layer to it. He would never hurt anyone’s feelings intentionally, but the whole purpose is to rob Jack blind, and it feels like a lie for him to let Jack call him good.

“Luke, huh?” Jack asks when he has the phone in his hands again. He’s staring at the screen with a smirk, but Luke nods anyway. “It’s fitting. Expect a call from me tomorrow.”

Almost before Luke realizes, Jack disappears into the crowd and toward the door. It almost doesn’t feel like a real moment.

Only it  _ is _ . It is real, and Luke’s just gone and stolen the one person Luke’ thought could restore Michael's confidence. He immediately turns to Michael, his heart is hammering in his chest. “I’ll find a new target,” he begins explaining, nearly unable to hear his own words through the blood rushing to his ears. “I’ll turn him down when he calls, I - ”

“Don’t be silly, Lukey,” Michael laughs, but it’s lifeless. “You haven’t been out in two years, here’s your chance.” He sounds hurt, and Luke hates that he stole Michael's target.

He hates even more that the idea of sleeping with anyone other than Michael burns in his throat and feels like swallowing glass.

“Perfect, then.”

➴➴➴

Being the bait isn’t as difficult as Luke thought it’d be. He’d always assumed Michael was just a fantastic actor - and he is - but it’s not difficult to find common interests with Jack as it seemed.

Over the course of the past week, Luke’s made it awkwardly through one date with Jack and successfully through a second. They’ve even been texting each other day and night, sharing music recommendations and terrible jokes. He’s no romantic interest in him, but they have similar tastes in just about everything .

So much so, Michael was proven useless halfway through the first date in terms of research as Luke fell into easy banter and conversations about music, fashion, and literature, something that eased Luke’s nerves about the situation, and settled the niggling worry in the back of his mind. Even the things they disagree with, there’s a level of respect in their faux outrage. Luke truly enjoys Jack’s company.

Just not the same way as Michael's.

It’s their third date, usually when he’d sleep with someone, were he actually dating them, and Luke’s ready to end this mission. While he enjoys Jack’s company, doesn’t hate spending time with him liked he’d thought he would, he knows it’s time. The microchip is burning a hole in his pocket and he’s a bundle of nerves.

Always able to tell when Luke’s not feeling completely confident, Michael's spent the last two and a half minutes trying to give Luke a pep talk through the earphones as Jack pours them both glasses of wine in the kitchen, and as much as Luke would like to say it’s not doing anything to ease his mind, it’s actually working.

The only thing getting him through it - the only thing that gets him through anything , really - is Michael in his ear, being supportive.

“Lukey, I promise, it’s easy,” Michael's mumbling. He’s been at it for a bit, but Luke still shakes his head, feeling stubborn. “Don’t tell me no. You don’t have to sleep with him, you don’t even have to kiss him, but you have to make him think you will.”

“I can’t .”

“You’ve done well the past two dates, there’s something there,” Michael railroads over Luke’s insistence, refusing to give an inch. “Just act like it’s a real date, and sneak in the microchip when you have a chance.” Luke opens his mouth, but Michael keeps speaking. “Just imagine it’s Tuesday night with me back in uni, then. When we’d splurge on fancy wine and cuddle til morning. Can you do that for me, Lukey?”

The supportive speech doesn’t continue, and Luke takes a deep breath. He hears the glasses clinking together in the kitchen and knows he needs to get it together, and fast. It’s Tuesday, Michael's drunk on wine, and Luke’s feeling cuddly.

He can do this. He needs to do this.

Jack returns with the wine glasses, and instead of the stabbing pain of his own panicking, Luke feels light. He grins, something breathless, as he pictures it’s nineteen year old Michael coming back, ready to share secrets until dawn. “Took you long enough.”

Jack looks to Luke, shock evident on his face, but it soon melts to something much more fond. “Well I had to get the good glasses out of the back of the cupboard,” he says. “A bit of a struggle, it was.”

“I’m glad you think I’m worth it then,” Luke teases, watching Jack place the glasses on the coffee table.

He chuckles, and though it’s a bit deeper than Michael's laugh, Jack speaks with a light tone, and it’s easy for Luke to convince himself it’s Michael. “You’re worth more , babe.”

“ _ Everything _ ,” Michael breathes softly. Luke thinks it’s the beginning of more advice, but when Michael doesn’t continue, Luke shrugs.

“What do you say I put on  _ The Editors’ _ album I was telling you about,” Jack suggests, “and we can get more comfortable.”

“I - ”

Before Luke can overthink things, before he can back out of the deal or start acting strange with is own anxiety about the situation, Michael's in his head, ready with some advice.

“Bite your lip, Lukey.” He sounds bored, sighing with it. Luke tilts his head a bit in question. “Your lips,” he repeats, “He’ll - just do it, please.”

Luke listens, biting his lip in Jack’s direction. “I think I’d like that.”

Jack’s eyes get slightly hooded and he goes for the record player without another word. Luke’s eyes widen as soon as his back is turned. It worked for some unknown reason, and he even managed to stun Jack speechless - something Luke’s sure rarely happens.

“Told you.”

Michael sounds bitter, and Luke feels guilty. It only makes sense that it’s his own go-to move when seducing these men, and Luke’s the one that gets to use it. He swallows the apology in his throat and takes a glass off the table. He’ll need to be drunk to get through tonight, it seems.

So together, he and Jack listen to the album, talk, and drink their wine. Luke allows himself to flirt a bit, trying to relate this to being in uni, experiencing having spare money for the first time, falling in love with his best friend over a glass of rosé.

It’s easy.

Eventually, as they’re finishing a deep conversation about the hidden meaning behind Helen Oyeyemi’s writing, Michael sighs in the earphones, reminding Luke that they aren’t alone, this isn’t university, and they’ve a mission that needs to be completed.

“If you’ll excuse me, I need to freshen up,” Luke says suddenly, setting his glass on the table and pulling away from where he was leaning against Jack’s arm.

A smug grin takes over Jack’s wine red lips as he gestures behind himself. “Bathroom’s down the hall.” Luke stands, stumbling a bit, not quite used to using his legs after so long. Jack helps him, a gentle hand on his hip until he’s stable again. “There’s a love.”

Luke heads off as Jack collects their glasses and goes into the kitchen. Luke slips into Jack’s study, seeing the laptop immediately. He walks over and slides the chip in, double checking that it’s secure before he scurries into the bathroom.

He didn’t lie, he really does need to use the toilet.

“Jesus Christ,” Michael groans, his voice a tad raspy. “It took you long enough. I nearly fell asleep.”

" _ Sorry _ ,” Luke whines, pulling himself from his trousers. “I forgot all about it.”

“I could tell.” The bitter tone is back, again it feels like Luke’s skin is too tight, wishing he hadn’t have stolen Michael's target. “You were seconds away from offering to blow him under his desk at the studio.” 

Luke splutters. “I wasn’t.”

“Whatever.” Michael doesn’t say anything else for a moment, the silence between them lasting until Luke finishes and tucks himself back into his pants. “The chip is in, I’m pulling the files over.”

“Make sure you do a system scan too,” Luke tells him. “We need any information we can get in case we need a back up.”

Michael huffs and it hurts to hear. It seems like there’s nothing he can do to get things back to normal - every attempt he makes turning sour. “I  _ know _ . I’m not a complete idiot.”

“I didn’t say that you were.”

Luke washes up, waiting for an all clear from Michael to confirm he can take their chip back. Instead he gets, “Uh… Lukey.” When Luke sighs, Michael continues. “The files disappeared.”

It happens sometimes. They’ve not updated their system in far too long, and sometimes the app malfunctions. It’s no big deal, and Michael only sounds so worried because he’s not been on the other side of operations, Luke’s sure.

“It’s probably just a glitch,” he says. “Try refreshing the app.”

“Okay, alright.” It’s almost as though Michael's talking to himself. There’s a shake in his voice, but Luke has no idea why he’s so nervous. “Just a glitch.”

Luke wipes his hands on a spare towel and walks out. Almost immediately, he runs into Jack, who’s leaning against the wall just outside the door. He smiles when Luke approaches him.

“Were you waiting for me?” Luke asks, making sure to smile so Jack doesn’t suspect anything is amiss. He sincerely hopes he hadn’t overheard Luke speaking to Michael.

“I was.”

Luke’s grin turns a bit smug and leans in. “What do you say we do now that the wine’s all gone?”

Jack chuckles, though it’s not like it has been for the past hour or so. There’s a guarded layer to it that worries Luke. “I think it’s best you head home.”

Luke frowns. “Are you sure? I thought we were - ”

“I like you a lot, love,” Jack cuts him off, sighing. “But I don’t think you’re here all the way.” He points to his head, and Luke can feel himself beginning to panic.

If Jack can sense that Luke’s not invested as deeply as Jack is, then Luke will have to go home. He doesn’t have the chip, and with the app glitching, they don’t have the information they need. This whole trip will be a bust, Michael will be let down, and Luke -

Well his ego wouldn’t be able to take being turned down by the only person to show him any interest in the past two years.

He needs this to work out.

“But I do - ”

“I know you only said yes to me that night in the club because you were too polite to say no,” Jack accuses, making Luke flush. He wants to argue, wants to put up a fight, but he feels too embarrassed that Jack could see right through him. “Head home, Luke. Sort yourself out, figure out what you want, and give me a call if things change.”

For someone who seems so shallow on paper, Jack Barakat is perceptive. He saw right through Luke, could tell he wasn’t there, and kicked him out. All of it rendering Luke speechless.

Jack grabs Luke’s hand and slides something into his palm. Luke doesn’t know what it is, but he doesn’t look, worried it’s what he thinks it is. He holds it as Jack glides past him and into the bathroom.

When the door shuts, Luke allows himself to look down, opening his palm. He sees the microchip resting there, staring back at him, and it settles in his head. 

They’ve failed.

➴➴➴

Luke gets back after a long, sad walk, and he can’t even look Michael in the eye.

Their flat doesn’t feel like home anymore.

➴➴➴

The night after his disaster of a date with Jack, Luke wakes up feeling tired, ashamed, and just plain confused. The night before, his only attempt at taking on Michael's position was an absolute failure - he knows it, Michael knows it, even Jack Barakat knows it.

Yet they spoke nothing of it, the line of tension between them pulled tighter. There’s something going unsaid, something that’s taking his and Michael's friendship and shredding it to bits.

Their flat is filled with the feeling that something’s wrong, and Luke doesn’t know how to fix it because he doesn’t know what’s making things feel so off, and every time he attempts to make something better, it blows up in his face and things get worse. It seems like in the past few months, Luke’s completely forgotten how to be Michael's friend.

He makes a decision, as he’s stretching out on his bed, to talk it out with Michael - to finally settle things and go back to normal. He’ll make a nice breakfast to butter him up, and then they’ll sit in the living room and not leave until it’s like it was a few months ago, with both truly enjoying each other’s company, more than just coexisting as Luke hopelessly pined after his best mate, watching him get fucked by wealthy men.

They’ll get their system back, Luke’s positive.

Only, when he steps out of his room, ready to make the best breakfast this flat has ever seen, the kitchen is a mess. There’s a stack of awkward looking pancakes sitting on the counter alongside a bottle of syrup and two mugs of steaming tea. Dishes are piled next to the sink and there’s a pile of pancake mix next to an empty box. Behind it all, Michael's rushing around, wearing Luke’s apron as he searches all of the cabinets, slamming them shut when he doesn’t find whatever it is he’s looking for.

“Uh…” At the sound of Luke’s voice, Michael jumps and turns to face the entryway. “Morning?”

There are dark grey bags under Michael's eyes that take up half his face. He smiles, but it’s lacking its usual energy. He definitely hasn’t slept, and Luke wants to wrap him in a blanket and lie him down.

“I made you breakfast!” Michael gestures to the food on the counter, and Luke walks closer, eyes slitted in hesitance.

“I can see that.”

“I was going to bring it to you in bed, but I can’t find a tray,” Michael rambles. His eyes are a bit wild, and Luke’s curious to see what Michael's trying to accomplish with this whole event. “I know we have one because you used to bring me eggy bread all the time, but I just - ”

“It’s in the attic,” Luke tells him, effectively cutting him off. “You started wanting to eat in the kitchen, so I packed it up.” 

Michael huffs, his hands going up in the air. “I wasted a lot of time looking for that.”

“Sorry.”

Between them, the rope of tension pulls tighter. It seems they can’t even have a normal conversation without things being palpably strained, trapping them in an uncomfortable limbo.

Needing something to do, something to help push things forward, Luke walks over and takes a seat in front of an empty plate. The pancakes sit in front of him - a bit ugly, too dark and misshapen. Michael made them, though, and he looks so hopeful as Luke reaches forward with his fork, and Luke can’t help but think they’re better, more meaningful, than anything he would’ve made.

Michael makes his way over and slides into the empty seat next to Luke, reaching for his own pancake, arms tense. Luke bites back a comment of how good he looks in the apron. There are much more important things to discuss.

“I think we need to talk,” Luke says.

Michael sighs. He’s staring at his plate, not making an effort to eat it. “We do. I just - ” He cuts himself off to continue staring at his plate. Luke waits for him to continue, but he doesn’t, only cuts off a piece of pancake and puts it in his mouth.

“What, um, where should we start?” Luke asks, but Michael only shrugs and continues to eat his dry, unbuttered pancake. He knows there’s something going on, and it’s his mission to figure out what it is and put it back to normal. Even if he has to force it out of Michael. “Things have been really weird between us, and I think it has a lot to do with what we do, and I know you like it a lot, but - ”

“I think we should stop.” Michael's voice comes out muffled from his food, but Luke hears it loud and clear. He lets out a sigh of relief.

“I think so too,” he agrees, feeling like a weight has been lifted from his shoulders. “It was good for a while, but it’s getting too complicated. Especially these last few months - ”

“Lukey, I need to tell you something,” Michael interrupts him, voice coming out hurried and breathless. Luke looks at him with wide eyes, but Michael's are closed, pinched tightly as his head faces forward. Luke doesn’t say anything, lets Michael work everything out on his own as Luke’s mind races, wondering what on earth it could be about. Eventually, Michael takes a deep breath. “I like you.”

Everything goes still and silence blankets the kitchen.

Blood rushes in Luke’s ears, and at first he believes he heard Michael wrong, but Michael's eyes are watching him now, open, green, and earnest. Luke’s vision is slightly blurred, and none of this feels real.

“Are you joking?”

Misinterpreting Luke’s disbelief as a rejection, Michael's eyes immediately narrow, and his mouth tenses as he throws his fork down. It bounces off the table and clatters to the floor, but Luke can only watch the open rage on Michael's face.

“Fuck you,” he bites. Luke pulls back, jaw dropping at the heat in his words. “Honestly, you know how hard talking about feelings is for me, and the moment I start opening up, you turn into a prick.” Michael pushes himself away from the table and grabs his plate, walking away from the counter, muttering to himself. “I let Roy convince me that maybe,  _ maybe _ , you felt the same, but - ”

“Roy?” Luke asks, voice shaky with the rush of emotions he’s suddenly facing.

“Yes, Roy,” Michael replies, making his way towards the sink and away from Luke. “He’s a nice guy, but he apparently doesn’t know shit about - ”

“Were you being serious?”

Michael drops his plate in the sink. It clatters obnoxiously against the metal at the bottom, but Michael doesn’t react, only turns to face Luke, face red in his anger. “ _ Obviously _ , asshole,” he spits. “I made you fucking pancakes, and told you I liked you - ”

“Are you just saying that because of…” Luke trails off, not able to think of how to put it, how to get his thoughts across without sounding like an utter prick.

“Because of what?”

“I don’t  _ know _ .” There’s no way he can ask what he wants without offending Michael, but he needs to just ask, to get it out of the way so he knows for sure. “Is it because you feel bad about yourself and you’re settling?”

Michael's face turns an odd shade of red. It’s the angriest Luke's ever seen him. “ _ Fuck _ you.”

“Michael - ”

“No really, Lukey. Go fuck yourself. I can’t believe you’d even - ” He cuts himself off, breathing heavy. There’s a moment of quiet, a moment where Luke wants to speak up, but Michael barrels on. “I’ve liked you for a long time now, but I thought it’d never happen. Lately I’ve allowed myself to think of the possibility, but I can see that was a mistake.”

The words, said in Michael's shaky, broken voice, are like a vise around Luke’s heart. Even still, as much as he wants to believe Michael, he feels nervous, scared, still not convinced this isn’t his mind playing tricks on him. He’s been in love with Michael since he knew what love was, and finding out Michael may feel the same is something short of a miracle.

“Michael - ”

“ _ No _ ,” Michael interrupts, his foot stomping as his fists clench at his sides. “I’ve liked you for a while, but you’ve never made a move, you’ve never said  _ shit _ . You treat me like your best mate, and I dealt with it. I focused on our targets, trying to find something in these men, and coming up short because they weren’t  _ you _ . But that night with Matt, when you - ” Michael looks up to the ceiling and blinks a few times, a telling sign that he’s fighting tears. “That night when you held me, and you told me you loved me, and said I deserved the world, I thought  _ maybe _ . I thought maybe I was worth it, and you felt the same.” Luke opens his mouth, wanting to say it’s true, but Michael persists. “Then I meet up with Roy, and I tell him all about you and about what we do, and he tells me that maybe you like me, that I’d never know unless I tried. Well he was right. I fucking tried.”

“Michael - ”

He shakes his head, sniffling with the motion. “I think I should move.”

“Let me talk Michael,” Luke yells, only feeling slightly bad when Michael jumps at the volume. “ _ Jesus _ .” Luke pushes himself away from the table and stands to approach Michael at the sink. “You stubborn prick, I’m trying to tell you I like you too.”

“Fuck off, Lukey.” Michael scoffs, stepping back. Luke only follows. “You don’t get to twist me about because you feel sorry for me.”

“When have I ever done that?” At the outrageousness of the accusation, Luke laughs, but it holds no humor. “When have I ever been anything less than honest with you?”

Pointing his face to the ceiling, Michael thins his lips. “If you liked me, then you would’ve said something.”

For a moment, Luke wants to accuse Michael of not knowing him, to assume that, but he doesn’t. He needs to explain himself, and he won’t let Michael bait him into a different argument. No matter how tempting it is.

“I’ve been in love with you since we were dumb first years,” Luke says. “When we were drinking shitty beer and you dyed your hair every color in the rainbow.” Luke smiles at the image in his head, expecting Michael to huff or roll his eyes, but he only watches on, eyes wide. “I watched you sleep with prick after prick and said nothing because I just wanted you to be happy.”

“You’re in love with me?”

Retracing his words, Luke curses, miffed that he gave himself away. He bites his lip and is ready to deny it, but then thinks better, realizing this is his chance to make things right, to hold Michael in his arms and not fear letting go. If this isn’t a dream, which Luke’s still skeptical of, then Michael's just revealed his feelings for Luke. His anger had been blocking the feeling of it all, but suddenly it all sinks into his bones, and Luke’s ready to rip his heart out and hold it out for Michael to take. “I am.” He nods, placing all his cards on the table. “I have been since the moment I first saw you.”

For a moment there’s nothing. The world doesn’t end, hell doesn’t open up, and there’s no reaction from Michael. For a solid five seconds, Luke’s floating, waiting to hear whether or not everything between he and Michael is ruined. It’s terrifying and exhilarating all at once, and when Michael opens his mouth to speak, Luke holds his breath.

“Then why didn’t you say something?” The tension sinks out of Michael's body suddenly, and his face is open, letting all of his exasperation and worry bleed into his expressions. “I cried to you about not being loved, I told you I felt worthless - ”

“I didn’t want you to think I was saying it to make you feel better,” Luke explains, stepping forward with his hands reached out. Michael doesn’t take them, but Luke keeps them in his reach, leaving the option. “I’m always here for you and I always want to help, but I didn’t want you saying you liked me back just because you thought I was the only one who did.”

“Do you really think I’d do that?”

Luke shrugs, biting his cheek at Michael's hurt tone. “I didn’t know,” he answers honestly. “All I knew was that I was too afraid to lose you, so I sat by, hopelessly in love with you, as you went after these men who could never say no to you.”

“You big fucking idiot,” Michael spits. Luke can’t tell if he’s angry or upset or relieved. “You should’ve just said - ”

Suddenly Michael's feelings aren’t up in the air anymore - his hands are as he throws them around Luke’s shoulders, places his hands at the back of Luke’s neck, and pulls him in, their lips meeting harshly together.

For a moment, Luke doesn’t react. He only stands still, hands pressed between his and Michael's bodies and he watches the cabinets behind Michael's head, eyes wide in shock. Michael takes his lack of a response as disinterest and starts to pull back, but one look at the confused wrinkle between his brows sparks Luke into motion and he leans in, capturing Michael's bottom lip between his own, and the action blesses him with a moan from Michael.

The sound has Luke stumbling forward, walking Michael backwards until his body is pressed between Luke’s and the sink, He’s on his tiptoes, hand grasping at the baby curls at the back of Luke’s neck, pulling them free from their tight bun.

Luke’s hands are everywhere, he can’t find the right place for them. It’s been years and years of wanting, anticipating, craving to have Michael's body underneath his hands, and now that he’s faced with the reality of it, it’s overwhelming.

They move in sync, no sign of awkward kissing, unsure movements, or hesitant touches. Luke’s giving, Michael's taking, and sparks are bursting Beneath Luke’s skin.

It’s everything he’s ever pictured it’d be and  _ more _ .

The first swipe of his tongue against Michael's is a live wire, electricity shooting down his throat and bleeding into his veins. It adds an urgency to everything, makes Luke push Michael harder into the counter. Michael moans loader, stands higher, grabs tighter. It’s hot, and wet, and desperate, and Luke’s not sure how he ever thought he could live without this man in his arms, without his taste on his tongue.

Luke’s hands settle on Michael waist, molding themselves perfectly against Michael's curves as his hands sneak under the fabric of Michael's top. His apron is still on, but Luke doesn’t let it get in the way.

It makes things a bit hotter, if he’s honest.

Soon, the initial energy and determination Michael had starts to fade away, and he’s reduced to soft moans, putty in Luke’s hands as he lets the man take complete control. Luke’s tonguing Michael's mouth, fingers biting him tightly at the hips, and pulling him flush against Luke’s body, and Michael lets him.

As Luke pulls away, Michael lets out a yawn, and Luke chuckles against his lips. “C’mon,” Luke says, pulling away, letting a hand wander into Michael's. “You’re exhausted, let’s get you to bed. We can finish talking later.”

“Come with me?” Michael looks up at him, eyes glassy and lips bitten red. Even if he wanted to, Luke couldn’t say no.

“Of course.”

Luke leads them to Michael's room, pushing Michael towards the bed with hand on the small of his back. His hand just hardly leaves his body when Michael begins to strip himself of his clothing, sliding under the blanket. Luke does the same.

The moment they’re under the blanket together, Michael's half on top of Luke, tongue sliding effortlessly between Luke’s lips.

The angle isn’t very forgiving, and Luke knows Michael's soon to be useless with his exhaustion, so he wraps one hand around Michael's wrist and rolls them both, pressing Michael's hand gently into the pillow above Michael's head.

This time around their kissing doesn’t last nearly as long or get half as desperate before Luke’s pulling away, peppering kisses down Michael's neck. When he lets his teeth nibble a bit, Michael moans a high, desperate sigh.

“I thought we were supposed to be going back to sleep,” he says breathlessly.

Luke hums against Michael's collarbone, lightly dragging his teeth down to Michael's nipple where he gives it a peck.

“We are,” Luke assures him. “We will.” He keeps kissing down, relishing in the beautiful noises he’s pulling from Michael, but stops when he gets to a bit of marred skin. He pulls back and sees that it’s actually a scar, white against Michael's skin. “What’s this?”

The question doesn’t register right away, but when it does, Michael peaks down to where Luke’s mouth rests against the scar.

“From Matt,” Michael tells him. “When the vase…” he trails off, and Luke frowns. Michael smoothes out the line between his brows. “I’m alright.”

“I shouldn’t’ve left you alone,” Luke mumbles, planting his face on Michael's belly.

“You saved me,” Michael says softly. Luke sighs, lifting his head to look at the scar, wishing he could’ve done more, been quicker, been better. “It’s not that bad.”

It isn’t, Luke knows. As far as injuries go, it’s rather tame. In their profession - former profession - the risk was much worse every time Michael slipped the microchip into the personal computers of ruthless, wealthy men. Yet Luke’s stomach twists, knowing if he hadn’t let his jealousy get in the way, he could’ve -

“I mean,” Luke sighs, needing to do something - say something - to move past the dark thoughts. “If anything it’s nice to see that you’re not completely perfect.”

Michael giggles, and it’s euphonious to Luke’s ear. “Cheesy.”

To retaliate for the laughing, Luke kisses down Michael's scar and then licks back up. Michael inhales sharply through his teeth at the feel.

“Time for bed?” Luke says it to tease, knowing he’s just riled Michael up, but instead of fighting back, Michael yawns and nods. Luke laughs at the way Michael's shoulders seem to fall into the pillow.

“I think a nap would be good.”

As much as Luke wants to keep going, somehow lying next to Michael, cuddling together as they nap well into the morning feels much more fitting for them. He’s waited years for Michael, and now that he has him, he can wait a bit longer to explore their relationship.

Afterall, he’s not going to say no to having the love of his life, pliant in his arms, snoring into his collarbone. It’s everything he’s ever wanted.

➴➴➴

“Target is moving.”

Luke curses as he hears Michael yell across the bar. They’ve been at this for what has to be twenty minutes now, and they’re no closer to catching him. It’s absolutely infuriating.

It’s Calum’s turn to pay the bar tab, and instead of helping Luke and Michael force him to cover it, Ashton and Roy are back at the table laughing, watching Calum escape every attempt to grab him by the neck and drag him up to the bartender.

It’s been just over six months since Luke and Michael stopped being complete shitheads and finally admitted their feelings together, and they’re out celebrating. Roy and Calum have spent the night arguing over who was the one to make it all happen, and it got annoying after the first few minutes, but Luke can’t complain. Not when he’s finally with the love of his life.

He can’t complain about much of anything these days.

Well, except for Calum, that is. The slimy fucker has bailed on his tab three times this month, insisting Michael and Luke have the funds. And they do, years of criminal activity assuring that, but it’s about the principal of the thing.

“I’ve got him!” Michael's shout just barely floats above the noise of everything else.

Luke looks up to see Michael pointing down the hallway to the bathroom, and Luke runs through the crowd, catching up just in time to see Calum turn too quickly, hitting his arm against Michael. Almost in slow motion, Luke sees Calum’s beer go flying from it’s mug and onto Michael

The look of sheer fury on Michael's face is a show in itself, but then Calum starts cackling, the sharp noise of it echoing through the empty hallway. Luke can’t help but chuckle along.

At the noise, Michael's eyes narrow, looking right at Luke. “Why are you laughing, you ass?” His lips are pursed, and it only serves to make the whole thing funnier. “He’s gone and ruined my shirt.”

“You’ll get over it,” Calum tells him through his laughing.

“I’ll buy you a new one,” Luke says. He’s stopped laughing, but he knows the humor is apparent on his face still. Michael huffs. “C’mon, it’s  _ funny _ . We’re headed home anyway.” Michael turns away, but Luke grabs his arm to stop him. He makes Michael face him and smiles softly. “I happen to think you look nice.”

“Yeah?”

“ _ Always _ ,” he insists. His sentiment doesn’t appease Michael, though, and he hits his hand on the bottom of Luke’s glass, making the liquid jump out and splash on Luke’s shirt. In the background, Calum laughs so hard he begins choking. Luke gasps at the cold feel and the  _ audacity _ . “That was on  _ purpose _ .” 

“Sure was,” Michael laughs. Luke’s eyes narrow. His shirt is already sticking to his skin, and he knows the dark brown of his whiskey is going to stain the white fabric. “I happen to think you look nice.”

“I’m going to get you back,” Luke warns him, not letting himself smile, no matter how badly he wants to. “You know that right?”

Michael only rolls his eyes. He pushes Luke’s shoulder gently and starts to back up. “What’re you gonna do?” he teases. “Rob me?”

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think! Comments are always appreciated
> 
> [Come talk to me on Tumblr!](http://fourdrunksluts.tumblr.com)


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